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Btvtntttntl)  €txitnvQ 


Faith  is  their  fix'd' unswerving  root, 
Hope  their  unfading  flower, 

Fair  deeds  of  charity  their  fruit, 
The  glory  of  their  "bower. 


STANFORD    AND    SWORDS 

No.  139,  Broadway. 
1847. 


PREFACE 


In  the  following  notices  we  find  spe- 
cimens of  a  class — representatives  of  a 
period.  The  religious  ladies  of  the 
seventeenth  century  whose  names  have 
come  down  to  us,  may  fairly  be  regarded 
as  samples  of  a  much  larger  number  like 
themselves.  Of  persons  who  lived  and 
died  in  the  privacy  of  domestic  life,  only 
a  small  proportion  could  meet  with  any 
kind  of  personal  memorial ;  and  of  those, 
necessarily  the  greater  part  would  be- 
long to  the  higher  ranks  of  society.  We 
know  in  our  own  times  how  limited  is 
the  circle  to  which  any  private  excel- 
lence is  intimately  known,  and  for  how 
short  a  time  it  remains  in  the  memory 
of  its  own  generation,  unless  circum- 
stances, such  as  high  rank,  great  talent, 
or  some  other  point  equally  independent 
of  that  excellence  itself,  cause  it  to  retain 
a  place  in  men's  minds.*     The  fact  of 

*  For  example,  of  Anne  Ken,  sister  of  the 
great  Bishop,  and  wife  of  Izaac  Walton,  scarce- 
ly any  other  memorial  is  left  than  the  following 
Epitaph  from  the  pen  of  her  husband,  which 
seems  to  show  so  high  a  tone  of  character,  that 
every  one  who  reads  it  must  desire  to  know 
more. 

Here  lieth  buried,  so  much  as  eould  die  of 
?  the  wife  of  Izaac  Walton,  who  was  a 
a  2 


IV  PREFACE. 

the  names  in  these  notices  being,  with 
but  one  or  two  exceptions,  aristocratic 
ones,  is  only  the  natural  consequence  of 
this  difficulty  ;  the  religion  of  humble 
life  was  not  recorded  in  that  day,  as  it  is 
not  in  the  present. 

With  respect  to  the  particular  model 
of  religious  character  which  they  pre- 
sent, all  that  need  be  said  here  is,  that 
it  is  essentially  a  Church  one,  that  it 
bears  the  true  Church  marks  of  humility, 
charity,  and  self-denial.  The  Church 
has  a  peculiar  power  of  at  once  elevating 
and  chasteningher  religious  minds,  which 
other  communions  have  not,  or  at  least 
have  not  in  at  all  the  same  significant 
way  in  which  she  has.  There  is  a  de- 
votional model  which  strikes  us  immedi- 
ately as  being  the  Church  one ;  which 
we  can  hardly  describe  except  by  the 
vague  but  characteristic  term,  ecclesi- 
astical. Without  entering  into  particu- 
lars, or  trying  to  define,  the  whole  tone 
of  Church  devotion  strikes  us  as  being 
different  from  that  which  is  even  aimed 
at  in  Sectarianism.  The  Church  has 
her  own  form  of  the  humble,  sweet, 
penitential,  simple  character,  which  is, 

woman  of  remarkable  prudence,  and  of  the 
primitive  piety :  her  great  and  general  know- 
ledge, being  adorned  with  such  true  humility, 
and  blest  with  so  much  Christian  meekness,  as 
made  her  worthy  of  a  more  memorable  monu- 
ment. 

She  died  (alas,  that  she  is  dead  !)  the  17th 
of  April,  1662,  aged  52.    Study  to  be  like  her." 


PREFACE.  V 

to  speak  generally,  absolutely  peculiar 
to  her.  This  character  is  capable  of  in- 
finite varieties  of  shade  and  complexion, 
and  gradations  of  height  and  splendour ; 
but  it  is  at  the  same  time  the  one  com- 
prehensive character  of  all  Church  saints, 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  the  one 
saintly  model  of  all  of  them.  This  is 
the  test  of  Church  religion,  and  the  fol- 
lowing characters  appear  to  answer  gen- 
erally to  it. 

One  point  should  be  just  mentioned  in 
connection  with  them.  Some  persons 
have  maintained  that  the  piety  of  the 
nation  all  centred  in  the  puritan  school 
at  the  period  of  the  civil  war.  Such  an 
assertion  of  course  implies  an  entire  ig- 
norance of  what  was  really  the  fact 
throughout  this  period.  At  the  same 
time,  so  long  as  there  are  any  to  believe 
it,  it  is  only  doing  justice  to  our  Church 
to  bring  her  religious  characters  to  light, 
as  these  pages  endeavour  to  do. 

With  respect  to  the  sources  of  infor- 
mation that  have  been  referred  to,  in  the 
case  of  Lady  Falkland  and  Lady  Hal- 
ket,  memoirs  are  still  extant  which  give 
a  tolerably  distinct  picture  of  their  lives  ; 
in  other  cases,  the  chief  documents  re- 
lating to  the  persons  are  Funeral  Ser- 
mons, which  often  fail  in  conveying  a 
distinct  image,  from  abounding  so  much 
in  generalities.  All  the  facts  that  could 
be  gathered  from  these  authorities  have 
been  here  collected,  with  the  additional 
assistance  of  Clarendon,  Lloyd,  Fuller, 
a  3 


VI  PREFACE. 

Evelyn,  Collins,  Ballard,  Lodge,  Gilpin, 
Whittaker,  and  others.  In  hardly  any 
instance  but  that  of  Mrs.  Basire,  has  it 
been  found  possible  to  collect  notices  of 
ladies  of  inferior  rank  to  that  of  the 
wives  of  noblemen  or  the  higher  gentry, 
and  even  of  these,  the  accounts  are  often 
incomplete.  A  good  deal  of  repetition 
is  unavoidable,  not  only  from  the  ten- 
dency to  generalize  which  is  shown  by 
the  biographers  and  panegyrists,  but  al- 
so from  one  circumstance  which  forms 
the  chief  value  of  the  collection,  the 
uniformity  of  practice  in  many  essential 
points  among  all  these  female  members 
of  the  English  Church. 

The  inverted  commas  which  have 
been  used  in  some  of  the  shorter  notices, 
in  extracting  from  different  authors,  do 
not  in  every  case  imply  a  literal  adher- 
ence to  their  words  ;  but  have  been  suf- 
fered to  stand  even  when  it  seemed  con- 
venient by  some  slight  alterations  to 
blend  such  extracts  with  the  main  narra- 
tive. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  notices  in  this  volume  commence 
with  the  period  of  the  Great  Rebellion. 
As  an  introduction  to  them,  some  account 
is  here  given  of  a  family  that  belonged 
to  the  more  peaceful  times  antecedent 
to  that  event.  In  1624,  the  Ferrar  fam- 
ily, consisting  of  Mrs.  Ferrar,  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  his  sister,  and  all  the  younger 
members  of  the  family,  retired  from  the 
world  to  a  devotional  establishment. 
Mrs.  Ferrar  seems  to  have  been  admira- 
bly adapted  to  assist  and  guide  such  an 
undertaking.  In  her  youth  she  was  de- 
scribed as  of  great  beauty,  and  of  very 
modest  deportment,  using  few  words, 
but  when  she  spoke,  showing  wisdom 
and  eloquence  beyond  her  sex  ;  and 
bringing  up  her  children  with  great  care 
and  piety ;  and  in  her  widowhood ,  at  the 
age  of  seventy-three,  when  she  entered 
so  warmly  into  her  son's  views,  she  was 
possessed  of  so  much  vigour,  and  had  so 
much  of  the  appearance  as  well  as  the 
reality  of  health,  that  those  who  saw 
her  concluded  her  not  to  be  more  than 
forty. 

Nicholas  Ferrar  had  hitherto  led  a 
career  of  extraordinary  activity  and  dili- 
gence, and  had  been  successfully  en- 
gaged in  many  affairs  of  the  greatest 
a  4 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

public  importance,  where  his  unflinching 
zeal  for  the  cause  of  right  had  been  aid- 
ed by  singular  powers  of  mind  and  apti- 
tude for  public  business  ;  but  now,  at  the 
age  of  twenty-seven,  he  determined  to 
carry  out  what  had  long  been  the  chosen 
wish  of  his  heart,  and  retiring  from  the 
world,  to  give  himself  up  to  the  service 
of  God  by  a  life  of  strict  devotion. 

The  place  he  fixed  on  for  his  religious 
retirement,  was  Little  Gidding,  in  the 
county  of  Huntingdon,  chosen  for  the 
privacy  of  its  situation.  It  was  a  large 
mansion  house,  falling  to  decay,  and  a 
small  church  within  thirty  or  forty  paces 
of  the  house,  at  that  time  converted  into 
a  barn.  The  purchase  was  made  in  the 
year  1624. 

At  this  time  the  plague  raged  in  Lon- 
don ;  and  Nicholas  Ferrar,  anxious  for 
his  mother  and  her  family  who  were  re- 
siding there,  prevailed  on  them  with 
much  importunity  to  leave  him  to  con- 
clude his  business  in  London,  and  retire 
into  the  country  till  the  house  he  had 
purchased  should  be  prepared  for  them. 
When  he  reached  Little  Gidding,  he 
wrote,  begging  his  mother  to  delay  her 
coming  for  a  month,  that  all  danger  of 
his  having  caught  infection  might  be 
over  ;  but  Mrs.  Ferrar,  impatient  to  see 
her  son,  immediately  joined  him  there. 
Their  meeting  is  thus  described  : — 
Though  he  had  been  engaged  in  many 
public  concerns  of  great  importance,  had 
been  a  distinguished  member  of  parlia- 


INTRODUCTION,  IX 

ment,  and  had  conducted  with  effect  the 
prosecution  of  the  prime  minister  of  the 
day  ;  at  first  approaching  his  mother,  he 
knelt  upon  the  ground  to  ask  and  receive 
her  blessing.  He  then  besought  her  to 
go  into  the  house,  rude  as  it  was,  and 
repose  herself.  This  she  refused  till  she 
had  given  thanks  to  God  in  the  Church, 
which  was  very  near  at  hand,  but  she 
was  extremely  grieved  to  find  it  filled 
with  hay  and  instruments  of  husbandry. 
Immediately  all  the  workmen,  many  in 
number,  employed  in  the  repair  of  the 
house,  were  set  to  cleanse  and  repair  the 
church  ;  for  she  said  she  would  not  suffer 
her  eyes  to  sleep,  nor  her  eyelids  to 
slumber,  till  she  had  purified  the  Temple 
of  the  Lord. 

In  about  a  month's  time,  when  all 
danger  of  infection  was  past,  she  sent 
for  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Collet,  with  her 
husband,  and  all  their  numerous  family, 
to  come  and  live  with  her  at  Gidding. 
Her  family  now  consisted  of  near  forty 
persons ;  and  it  being  a  season  of  hu- 
miliation, for  the  mortality  prevailing 
through  England,  they  determined  to 
make  continued  prayer  to  God.  To 
this  end,  as  soon  as  the  church  was 
put  into  decent  repair,  Bishop  "Williams 
gave  permission  for  service  being  per- 
formed there,  as  it  was  done  accordingly 
morning  and  evening,  by  the  minister  of 
the  adjoining  parish. 

At  Easter,  1626,  the  plague  having 
ceased,  Nicholas  Ferrar  and  his  mother, 
a  5 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

with  others  of  their  family,  went  up  to 
London  to  settle  their  remaining  affairs, 
and  take  leave  of  their  friends.  Whilst 
they  were  there,  he  showed  his  mother 
a  vow  which  he  had  written  and  signed 
with  great  solemnity,  that  since  God  had 
so  often  heard  his  humble  petitions,  and 
delivered  him  out  of  many  dangers,  he 
would  now  give  himself  up  continually 
to  serve  God  in  the  office  of  a  deacon,  to 
which  he  had  that  morning  been  ordained 
by  Laud,  then  Bishop  of  St.  David's, 
and  that  renouncing  the  vanities  of  the 
world,  he  would  devote  the  remainder 
of  his  life  to  mortification,  devotion,  and 
charity.  On  his  ordination  he  received 
the  offers  of  some  ecclesiastical  benefices 
of  great  value,  but  he  declined  them, 
saying,  that  it  was  his  firm  determination 
to  rise  no  higher  in  the  Church  than  the 
place  and  office  which  he  now  possessed, 
and  which  he  undertook  only  with  the 
view  to  be  legally  authorized  to  give 
spiritual  assistance  to  his  family  and 
others.  He  then  returned  with  his 
mother  to  Gidding,  where,  when  the  ne- 
cessary repairs  of  the  church  were  com- 
pleted, she  undertook  the  care  of  its  fur- 
niture, providing  two  new  sets  of  hang- 
ings suitable  for  week-days  and  feast- 
days,  a  new  font,  a  brass  eagle  as  a  lec- 
tern, communion  plate,  and  candles. 
Dr.  Williams,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  came 
to  view  the  church  and  house  in  1631, 
and  approved  the  rules  which  he  had 
drawn  up  "  for  watching,  fasting,  and 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

praying,  for  singing  psalms  and  hymns, 
for  their  exercises  in  readings  and  repe- 
titions, for  their  distribution  of  alms, 
their  care  of  the  sick  and  wounded,  and 
other  regularities  of  their  institution." 

Two  years  afterwards  Mrs.  Ferrar  re- 
solved to  restore  the  glebe  lands  and 
tithes  to  the  church,  and  after  some 
difficulty  accomplished  it.  The  house 
was  now  furnished,  with  two  oratories 
for  men  and  women  ;  Mrs.  Ferrar,  with 
her  daughter  and  granddaughters,  occu- 
pying the  latter,  and  taking  their  part  in 
all  the  practices  of  devotion  and  charity 
for  which  the  household  was  estab- 
lished. 

A  large  building  was  appropriated  for 
a  school-room,  which  being  too  large  for 
the  children  of  the  family,  permission 
was  given  to  as  many  in  the  neighbour- 
ing towns  as  desired  it,  to  send  their 
children,  where  they  were  instructed 
without  expense. 

To  this  purpose  he  provided  there  a 
schoolmaster  to  reside  in  his  house,  and 
teach  the  different  branches  of  educa- 
tion, amongst  which  music  had  a  leading 
place.  As  the  children  grew  older,  and 
their  powers  of  judgment  were  in  some 
degree  matured,  they  were  taught  under 
Nicholas  Ferrar's  more  immediate  in- 
struction, and  he  devoted  several  hours 
of  the  day  to  their  instruction,  laying 
out  most  exact  plans  for  their  employ- 
ment and  recreation.  He  was  anxious 
that   they   should   commit   passages   of 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

Scripture  to  memory,  and  especially  the 
whole  book  of  Psalms ;  and  gave  daily 
catechetical  lectures  according  to  the 
doctrines  of  the  Church  of  England.  In 
order  to  make  his  labours  extensively 
beneficial,  he  invited  all  the  children  of 
the  surrounding  parishes  to  get  the 
Psalms  by  heart,  and  gave  each  a 
Psalter. 

These  Psalm  children,  as  they  were 
called,  more  than  a  hundred  in  number, 
assembled  every  Sunday  morning  at 
Gidding,  repeated  their  tasks,  and  after 
church,  dined  in  the  great  hall  under  the 
superintendence  of  Mrs.  Ferrar  and  her 
family,  where  great  order  was  observed. 
After  dinner,  the  two  o'clock  bell  sum- 
moned the  whole  household  to  church, 
to  which  they  went  in  a  regular  form  of 
procession.  The  hours  for  daily  service 
in  church,  were  half-past  six  for  Matins, 
ten  o'clock  for  the  Litany,  and  four  in 
the  afternoon  for  the  Evening  Service. 
Besides  which,  each  hour  had  its  ap- 
pointed Psalms,  which  were  said  in  the 
oratories,  with  some  portion  of  the  Gos- 
pels. In  addition  to  these  daily  services, 
there  were  nightly  watchings  from  nine 
to  one  in  the  morning,  in  each  of  the 
oratories,  kept  by  two  or  more  persons, 
who  said  the  Psalms  antiphonally.  The 
time  of  their  watch  being  ended,  they 
went  to  Mr.  Ferrar's  door,  bade  him 
good-morrow,  and  left  a  lighted  candle 
for  him.  At  one  he  constantly  rose  and 
betook  himself  to  religious  meditation, 


INTRODUCTION.  xiil 

founding  this  practice  on  the  passage, 
"At  midnight  will  1  rise  and  give 
thanks."  Several  religious  persons  in 
the  neighbourhood,  and  from  a  distance, 
joined  in  these  watches.  On  the  first 
Sunday  of  every  month,  they  always 
had  a  Communion,  which  was  adminis- 
tered by  the  clergyman  of  the  adjoining 
parish,  Mr.  Ferrar  assisting  as  deacon* 
All  the  servants  who  then  received  the 
Communion,  when  dinner  was  brought 
up,  remained  in  the  room,  and  on  that 
day  dined  at  the  same  table  with  Mrs* 
Ferrar  and  the  rest  of  the  family. 

When  Mrs.  Collet's  four  eldest  daugh- 
ters were  of  sufficient  age,  they  were 
appointed  to  take  in  turn  the  whole 
charge  of  the  domestic  economy,  chang- 
ing every  month,  and  giving  in  their  ac- 
counts. They  had  also  charge  of  the 
infirmary,  and  were  employed  in  prepar- 
ing medicines,  and  in  dressing  wounds. 

As  a  variety  in  the  system  of  educa- 
tion, the  seven  daughters  received  each 
a  name,  and  were  called,  1.  The  Chief. 
2.  The  Patient.  3.  The  Cheerful.  4. 
The  Affectionate.  5.  The  Submiss. 
6.  The  Obedient.  7.  The  Moderate. 
These  all  had  their  respective  characters 
to  sustain,  and  exercises  to  perform  suit- 
able to  them.  In  the  Christmas  season 
of  the  year  1631,  discourses  were  com- 
posed for  the  Seven  Sisters,  all  enliven- 
ed by  hymns  and  odes  set  to  music,  ex- 
cept that  for  the  Patient,  which,  in  order 
to  illustrate  the  character,  had  neither 
a  7 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

verses  nor  anecdotes  to  enliven  it,  but 
was  throughout  of  a  serious  turn. 

Besides  bearing  their  part  in  the 
night-watches,  the  repeating  of  Psalms, 
the  attendance  at  church,  waiting  on  the 
sick  and  poor,  entertaining  the  school- 
children, and  all  the  other  duties  of  the 
family,  its  female  members  also  filled 
their  part  in  executing  the  ingenious  de- 
signs of  Nicholas  Ferrar,  when  he  form- 
ed his  Harmony  on  the  Gospels.  He 
set  apart  a  long  spacious  room,  near  the 
oratory,  which  received  the  name  of  the 
Concordance  Chamber,  and  when  fully 
arranged,  had  tables  along  the  sides  of 
the  walls,  and  was  provided  with  all  the 
instruments  necessary  for  their  work. 
Sentences  chosen  by  each  person  of  the 
family,  and  by  some  of  their  friends, 
were  written  upon  the  walls,  which  were 
coloured  of  a  pleasant  green,  and  a  fire- 
place was  provided  for  the  cold  weather, 
for  they  spent  some  hours  every  forenoon 
and  afternoon  at  this  work,  according  as 
they  could  spare  the  time  from  other 
studies  and  occupations.  Nicholas  Fer- 
rar instructed  his  nieces  how  to  cut  out 
and  arrange  the  passages  from  each 
Evangelist,  so  as  to  perfect  such  a  head 
or  chapter  as  he  had  designed.  The 
book  was  adorned  with  many  pictures, 
and  the  passages  cut  out  were  neatly  fit- 
ted, and  the  whole  pressed  and  bound  in 
the  presses  placed  in  the  room. 

In  May,  1633,  the  king  visited  Gid- 
ding  on  his  journey  into  Scotland,  and 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

he  afterwards  sent  to  borrow  the  Con- 
cordance, which  he  kept  for  some  months, 
and  returned  with  notes  written  by  him- 
self on  the  margin.  He  also  sent  a  re- 
quest to  Mr.  Ferrar  and  his  nieces  that 
they  would  make  him  one  of  these  books 
for  his  own  use.  They  immediately  set 
about  what  the  king  desired,  and  in  a 
year's  time  it  was  presented  to  him  by 
Dr.  Laud,  then  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, and  Dr.  Cosin,  who  was  then  in- 
stituted as  the  king's  chaplain.  The 
book  was  bound  entirely  by  Mary  Col- 
let, in  crimson  velvet,  and  richly  gilded 
upon  the  velvet  in  a  new  and  splendid 
fashion.  The  king  being  much  pleased 
with  the  gift,  requested  them  to  make  a 
Concordance  for  him  of  the  Books  of 
Kings  and  Chronicles,  which  they  did, 
and  afterwards  a  copy  of  the  first  book 
for  the  young  prince,  his  son ;  in  which 
young  Nicholas  Ferrar,  nephew  to  the 
founder  of  the  establishment,  directed 
the  work,  making  a  Concordance  of  the 
Evangelists,  in  four  different  languages- 

The  family  received  another  visit  from 
the  king,  accompanied  by  the  prince  his 
son,  Prince  Rupert,  and  others,  about 
the  beginning  of  the  troubles,  in  1642. 

Mrs.  Ferrar  died  in  1635,  ten  years 
after  she  came  to  Gidding,  at  eighty- 
three  years  of  age.  Her  son,  John  Fer- 
rar, describes  her  as  having,  till  her 
dying  day,  no  infirmity,  and  hardly  any 
sign  of  old  age  upon  her.  Her  hearing, 
sight,  and  all  her  senses,  were  good. 
a  8 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

She  had  never  lost  a  tooth  ;  she  walked 
very  upright,  and  with  great  agility,  nor 
was  she  troubled  with  any  pains  or  un- 
easiness of  body.  While  she  lived  at 
Gidding,  she  rose,  summer  and  winter, 
at  five  o'clock,  and  sometimes  sooner. 
She  was  of  a  comely  presence,  tall, 
straight,  and  clear-complexioned  to  the 
last,  and  had  a  countenance  so  full  of 
gravity,  that  it  drew  respect  from  all 
who  saw  her.  In  her  words  she  was 
courteous,  in  her  actions  obliging.  In 
her  diet  always  very  temperate,  saying, 
she  did  not  live  to  eat  and  drink,  but  ate 
and  drank  to  live.  She  was  a  pattern 
of  piety,  benevolence,  and  charity.  And 
thus  she  lived  and  died,  esteemed,  re- 
vered, and  beloved  of  all  who  knew  her. 
Her  son  Nicholas,  who,  at  her  urgent 
request,  had  abated  something  of  his 
austere  mode  of  life,  and  considered  the 
care  of  his  health  whilst  she  lived,  sur- 
vived her  little  more  than  two  years,  and 
died  on  December  2d,  1637,  at  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  hour  at  which 
for  many  years  he  had  risen  to  his  pray- 
ers. His  nephew  and  namesake  lived 
only  four  years  longer ;  but  the  estab- 
lishment at  Gidding  was  not  broken  up 
till  near  the  time  of  the  king's  murder, 
when  some  soldiers  of  the  rebel  army 
plundered  the  house  and  church,  after 
the  family  had  fled,  destroyed  the  organ, 
and  all  the  manuscripts  left  by  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  and  carried  away  every  thing  of 
value. 


LETTICE 
VISCOUNTESS  FALKLAND. 


Lett  ice  Viscountess'  Falkland  wae 
the  daughter  of  Sir  Richard  Morison, 
of  Tooley  Park,  in  Leicestershire.  Her 
-marriage  to  Lord  Falkland  is  mentioned 
bj'-  Clarendon,  but  she  is  more  distinctly 
made  known  to  us  by  the  account  of  her 
-"  holy  life  and  death,"  which  John  Dun- 
can, a  clergyman  who  had  enjoyed  her 
•confidence,  addressed  after  her  death  to 
her  mother,  Lady  Morison.  His  object 
was,  as  he  tells  Lady  Morison,  to  give 
comfort  to  her,  and  satisfaction  to  some 
of  Lady  Falkland's  friends,  "  that  the 
most  precious  perfume  of  her  name,  be- 
ing poured  out  like  the  box  of  spikenard, 
might  fill  their  houses."  He  confines 
himself  to  a  view  of  her  character  in  its 
religious  aspect,  and  gives  no  particulars 
of  her  life,  but  as  they  show  the  piety 
and  conscientiousness  which  ran  through 
it,  to  which  end  he  relates  many  inter- 
esting details,  from  her  childhood  till 
her  death. 

"  This  elect  lady,"  he  says,  "set  out 
early  in  the  ways  of  God,  in  the  dawn 
or  morning  of  her  age  ;  there  was  care 
taken  while  she  was  young,  that  she 
should  be  brought  up  in  the  nurture  and 
tadmonition  of  the  Lord  ;  she  came  not 
a  9 


• 


18  LETTICE 

from  her  nurse's  arms  without  some 
knowledge  of  the  principles  of  Christian 
religion. 

"  While  she  was  very  young,  she  paid 
an  exact  obedience  to  her  parents,  ex- 
tending also  to  her  aunt,  who  had  some 
charge  over  her  in  her  father's  house  ; 
and  as  she  began,  so  she  continued  this 
dutiful  observance  ;  her  mother  never 
could  remember  any  one  particular,  in 
which  she  had  proved  disobedient  to  her 
or  to  her  father. 

"  That  her  time  might  not  be  mis- 
spent, nor  her  employments  tedious  to 
her,  the  several  hours  of  the  day  had 
variety  of  employments  assigned  to 
them ;  intermixing  of  prayers,  reading, 
writing,  working  and  walking,  brought 
a  pleasure  to  each  of  them  in  their 
courses,"  so  that  the  day  ended  too  soon 
for  all  she  had  to  do  ;  and  in  her  early 
youth  she  began  to  abridge  herself  of  her 
sleep,  and  was  often  at  a  book  in  her 
closet,  when,  she  was  thought  to  be  in 
bed. 

Whilst  she  was  still  very  young,  she 
worked  a  purse  to  hold  her  own  alms, 
and  would  beg  for  money  from  her  mo- 
ther to  fill  it,  as  eagerly  emptying  it 
again  for  the  poor  who  came  to  her 
father's  house,  and  who  seldom  left  it 
without  alms  from  the  young  daughter^ 
as  well  as  from  her  parents. 

She  was  at  this  time  constant  in  her 
private  prayers  ;  and  when  strangers 
occupied  her  own  room,  to  which  sbc 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  19 

commonly  retired,  she  would  ask  the 
steward  for  the  key  of  some  other  room 
for  that  purpose,  at  her  hour  of  prayer. 
"  How  powerful  with  God  the  lifting  up 
her  pure  hands  every  where,  in  this  her 
innocent  childhood,  was,  soon  appeared. 
For  while  her  piety  and  holiness  was  in 
this  bud,  a  violent  attempt,  there  was 
made  to  blast  it.  About  the  thirteenth 
year  of  her  age,  there  was  a  storm  of 
temptation  raised  in  her,  and  some  argu- 
ments the  tempter  had  suggested,  to 
drive  her  to  despair  of  God's  mercy  to- 
wards her.  But  God  upheld  this  young 
twig  against  such  a  storm,  which  hath 
torn  up  many  a  fair  tree  :  for  after  some 
anguish  of  spirit,  and  patience  in  the 
combat,  and  earnest  prayers,  God's  grace 
was  sufficient  for  her  :  and  surely  it  was 
not  the  strength  of  her  hands  at  this  age, 
but  the  pureness  of  them,  which  pre- 
vailed for  her." 

After  this  conquest,  her  soul  enjoyed 
much  peace  and  tranquillity  ;  she  went 
on  most  cheerfully  in  holy  duties,  tasting 
much  delight  and  comfort  in  them,  and 
her  heart  was  at  times  so  full,  that  out 
of  the  abundance  of  it  she  would  say, 
"  O,  what  an  incomparable  sweetness 
there  is  in  the  music  upon  David's  harp  ! 
O,  what  heavenly  joy  there  is  in  those 
psalms,  and  in  prayers  and  praises  to 
God  !  How  amiable  are  the  courts  of 
God's  house  !  how  welcome  the  days  of 
his  solemn  worship  !" 

Nothing  could  hinder  her  from  holy 


20  LETTICE 

assemblies ;  every  Lord's  day  constantly, 
forenoon  and  afternoon,  she  would  be 
there  among  the  earliest ;  and  when  she 
had  no  other  means  of  going,  she  would 
walk  cheerfully  three  or  four  miles  a 
day,  young  and  tender  as  she  then  was  ; 
and  at  night,  she  reckoned  the  joy  and 
refreshment  of  which  her  soul  had  been 
partaker,  a  sufficient  recompense  for  the 
extreme  weariness  of  her  body. 

She  improved  her  natural  talents  of 
understanding  and  reason  to  a  great  de- 
gree of  wisdom  and  knowledge,  by  read- 
ing good  authors,  and  by  frequent  con- 
verse with  learned  men.  These  riches, 
of  her  piety,  wisdom,  quickness  of  wit, 
discretion,  judgment,  sobriety  and  mod- 
esty, seemed  portion  enough  to  Sir  Lu- 
cius Carey.  He  was  the  most  intimate 
friend  of  her  brother,  Henry  Morison, 
of  whom  he  was  deprived  by  an  untimely 
death,  and  soon  after  this  loss,  he  sought 
Lettice  for  his  wife. 

Sir  Lucius,  though  not  yet  of  age,  was 
in  possession  of  a  large  estate,  left  to  him 
by  Chief  Baron  Tanfield,  his  mother's 
father,  of  which  he  became  master  when 
he  was  nineteen.  Being  thus  well  able 
to  marry,  and  being  passionately  attached 
to  Lettice  Morison,  he  married  her 
without  any  large  portion,  and  by  doing 
so  offended  his  father,  who  had  hoped  to 
make  some  advantageous  match  for  his 
son,  and  so  to  restore  his  own  ruined 
fortune  and  disappointed  hopes  at  court. 
The   son   could   not   regret  a  marriage 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  21 

which  brought  him  entire  happiness,  by 
the  extraordinary  wit  and  judgment,  the 
signal  virtue  and  exemplary  conduct  of 
his  wife  ;  but  he  felt  keenly  his  father's 
displeasure,  earnestly  entreated  his  par- 
don ;  and  to  make  up  for  the  injury  he 
had  brought  upon  his  fortune  by  choos- 
ing an  ill-portioned  wife,  he  offered  to 
give  up  to  him  the  estate  left  by  his 
grandfather,  and  rely  only  upon  his  kind- 
ness for  his  own  maintenance.  For  this 
purpose  he  caused  conveyances  to  be 
drawn  up,  and  brought  them  ready  en- 
grossed to  his  father,  willing  to  seal  and 
execute  them.  But  all  reconciliation 
was  refused,  and  the  offer  of  the  estate 
rejected,  so  that  he  remained  in  posses- 
sion of  it  against  his  own  will ;  and  in  his 
grief  at  his  father's  displeasure,  he  went 
with  his  wife  into  Holland,  resolving  to 
buy  some  military  command.  But  being 
disappointed  in  this,  and  finding  no  op- 
portunity to  fulfil  his  intention,  he  re- 
turned again  to  England,  and  resolved 
to  retire  to  a  country  life,  and  to  his 
books. 

The  house  where  he  usually  resided, 
was  one  left  him  by  his  grandfather,  at 
Great  Tew,  or  Burford,  in  Oxfordshire  ; 
he  was  so  earnest  in  pursuing  his  studies 
in  the  country,  that  he  determined  not 
to  see  London,  the  place  in  which  he 
took  the  most  delight,  till  he  had  per- 
fected himself  in  the  Greek  language. 
This  resolution  he  was  obliged  to  break, 
by  a  sudden  accident  which  happened  to 


22 


his  father  in  1633,  two  years  after  his 
marriage  ;  but  after  completing  the  busi- 
ness which  followed  upon  his  father's 
death,  he  returned  again  into  the  coun- 
try. He  now  succeeded  to  the  title  of 
Viscount  Falkland,  from  which  he  gained 
only  increase,  of  expense,  not  of  income  ; 
yet  he  exercised  continued  acts  of  gen- 
erosity and  hospitality.  Living  within 
ten  or  twelve  miles  of  Oxford,  his  house 
was  the  resort  of  all  the  learned  and  emi- 
nent men  of  the  University,  Dr.  Shel- 
don, Dr.  Morley,  Dr.  Hammond,  Dr. 
Earle,  Mr.  Chillingworth,  besides  such 
as  came  thither  from  London  ;  all  these 
found  constant  entertainment,  without 
inquiry  from  the  master  of  the  house  as 
to  their  coming  and  going,  studied  in  his 
library,  where  they  found  all  the  books 
they  could  need,  and  enjoyed  the  society 
which  he  had  thus  formed. 

His  friend,  Lord  Clarendon,  who  de- 
scribes this  happy  conversation  and  re- 
tirement in  which  Lord  Falkland  spent 
many  years,  does  not  particularly  men- 
tion the  lady  of  the  mansion,  though  he 
speaks  with  great  warmth  of  Lord  Falk- 
land's happy  choice  in  making  her  his 
wife  ;  nor  does  he  mention  her  with  re- 
gard to  the  political  affairs  in  which  his 
friend  was  afterwards  engaged,  or  the 
difference  that  ma}'  have  been  produced 
in  her  mode  of  life,  by  his  occupations 
in  London.  Her  biographer,  Duncan, 
says,  that  by  her  marriage  with  him, 
riches,   honour,   and   all  other  worldly 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  23 

prosperity,  flowed  in  upon  her,  and  made 
it  a  harder  task  to  proceed  in  virtue  and 
godliness,  since  it  is  more  difficult  when 
riches  increase,  not  to  set  the  heart  upon 
them. 

Yet  God  enabled  her,  he  says,  to  do 
this  also ;  for  when  possession  was  given 
her  of  stately  palaces,  pleasantly  situ- 
ated, and  most  curiously  and  fully  fur- 
nished, and  of  revenues  answerable,  her 
friends  could  never  perceive  that  her 
heart  was  exalted  by  any  of  them,  whilst 
she  acknowledged  God's  great  goodness 
towards  her,  in  giving  them. 

There  were  even  some  who  were  dis- 
pleased by  the  little  satisfaction  she  ex- 
pressed in  all  her  worldly  prosperity  ; 
and  then  she  would  attribute  much  of 
her  indifference  to  a  disposition  towards 
melancholy,  proceeding  from  ill  health. 

Thus  some  years  passed,  during  which 
time,  she  was  most  constant  at  prayers 
and  sermons,  and  frequently  received  the 
blessed  sacrament  ;  and  although  now 
and  then  she  did  not  feel  her  usual  spi- 
ritual comforts,  but  instead  of  them,  had 
some  anguish  and  bitterness  of  spirit ; 
yet,  by  the  advice  of  good  divines,  and 
by  her  ordinary  help  of  prayer,  she  soon 
recovered  her  peace  and  joy. 

The  first  abatement  of  her  prosperity, 
was  when  her  husband  took  arms  for  the 
king,  and  she  was  separated  from  him 
whom  she  loved  more  than  all  other 
things  in  the  world.  A  heavier  affliction 
followed,  when  on  September  20,  1643, 


24 


he  fell  fighting  valiantly  at  the  battle  of 
Newbury.  Beloved  and  honoured  as  he 
was  by  his  friend,  the  grief  of  his  wife 
must  have  been  even  more  overwhelm- 
ing, when,  after  ten  years  of  happy 
union,  she  was  left  thus  widowed  with 
the  tare  of  their  three  young  sons.  But 
she  received  the  blow  as  a  loud  call  from 
heaven,  to  further  advancement  in  holi- 
ness, fearing  at  the  same  time,  that  it 
might  be  also  a  punishment  for  her  sins, 
and  therefore  strictly  searching  out 
every  corner  of  her  heart,  and  repenting 
anew  of  all  her  past  offences. 

She  then  addressed  herself  to  a  divine 
of  great  eminence  for  piety  and  learning, 
and  from  him  she  took  directions  for  a 
more  strict  course  of  life  in  this  her 
widowhood,  than  she  had  hitherto  pur- 
sued. Though  the  greatest  and  most 
important  part  of  her  Christian  work 
was  locked  up  close  within  herself,  and 
some  of  it  carefully  concealed  for  fear 
of  vainglory,  yet  much  of  it  appeared  by 
the  effects,  and  so  came  abroad  for  the 
good  of  others. 

Her  first  and  great  employment,  was 
to  read  and  understand,  and  then  to  the 
utmost  of  her  strength  to  practise  our 
blessed  Saviour's  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
in  the  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  chapters 
of  St.  Matthew's  Gospel ;  and  having 
read  over  a  most  complete,  though  com- 
pendious Comment  upon  that  Sermon, 
she  set  forthwith  upon  the  work  of  prac- 
tising it,  beginning  with  those  virtues  to 
which  the  Beatitudes  are  annexed. 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  25 

Her  mercifulness  was  one  of  those  vir- 
tues which  she  could  not  conceal  from 
observation ;  much  of  her  estate  went 
yearly  to  such  of  her  relations  as  were 
in  need  of  assistance  ;  some  of  her  near 
neighbours,  who  were  too  old  or  too 
young  for  work,  were  wholly  maintained 
by  her  ;  to  other  poor  children  she  con- 
tributed much,  both  for  their  spiritual 
and  temporal  well-being,  by  building  a 
school,  where  they  were  taught  to  read 
and  work.  It  was  her  great  care  in  the 
management  of  her  estate,  that  no  man, 
woman  or  child,  should  want  employ- 
ment ;  and  to  this  she  had  more  regard 
than  to  her  own  profit,  as  by  such  con- 
stant work,  she  kept  them  both  from 
want  and  idleness. 

As  to  the  poor  at  home,  and  strangers 
at  the  door,  she  was  very  charitable  in 
feeding  the  hungry  and  refreshing  the 
poor  and  weak ;  for  clothing  the  naked, 
she  might  be  sometimes  seen  going  up 
and  down  her  house,  begging  clothes 
from  her  servants,  which  she  repaid  af- 
terwards with  new,  that  the  poor  might 
not  go  naked  or  cold  from  her  door;  so 
that  she  was  not  only  a  liberal  almoner 
to  the  poor,  but  also  an  earnest  solicitor 
for  them.  When  it  was  objected  that 
many  idle  and  wicked  people  were  by 
this  course  of  charity  relieved  at  her 
house,  her  answer  was,  "  I  know  not 
their  hearts,  and  in  their  outward  car- 
riage and  speech,  they  all  appear  to  me 
good  and  virtuous ;  and  I  had  rather  re- 


26 


lieve  five  unworthy  vagrants,  than  that 
one  member  of  Christ  should  go  empty 
away." 

And  as  for  harbouring  strangers,  the 
many  inconveniences  apt  to  result  from 
it  could  not  deter  her  from  entertaining 
them,  sometimes  for  several  weeks  to- 
gether. 

She  would  also  send  plentiful  relief  to 
prisoners,  and  needy  persons  at  London 
and  Oxford,  with  a  strict  charge  that  it 
should  not  be  known  from  whence  it 
came,  and  it  was  not  till  after  her  death 
that  these  charities  came  to  light. 

Nor  was  her  mercifulness  bounded 
within  the  limits  of  friends,  but  extend- 
ed to  her  enemies ;  for  when  many  of 
them  were  taken  prisoners  by  the  king's 
soldiers,  she  consulted  how  she  might 
send  relief  to  them  ;  and  on  the  objection 
being  made,  that  such  an  action  would 
raise  jealousies  in  some  minds  of  her 
loyalty  to  the  king,  she  answered,  "No 
man  wiil  suspect  my  loyalty,  because  I 
relieve  these  prisoners ;  but  he  would 
suspect  my  Christianity,  if  he  should 
see  me  relieve  a  needy  Turk  or  Jew : 
however,  I  had  rather  be  so  misunder- 
stood, (if  this  my  secret  alms  should  be 
known,)  than  that  any  of  mine  enemies 
(the  worst  of  them)  should  perish  for 
want  of  it." 

Her  mercifulness  was  constantly  ex- 
ercised towards  the  sick ;  she  spent  large 
sums  of  money  every  year  in  providing 
antidotes  against  infection,  cordials,  and 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  27 

various  sorts  of  medicine,  which  she 
distributed  among  her  neighbours  when 
they  were  in  need  of  them,  attending 
herself  to  their  wants  with  skill  and  care, 
hiring  nurses  when  they  were  required, 
frequently  visiting  the  poorest  cottagers, 
waiting  on  their  sick  beds,  and  carrying 
books  of  spiritual  exhortations,  which 
she  read  to  them  with  words  of  holy 
counsel.  She  considered  it  the  fit  season 
for  sowing  good  seed  when  their  hearts 
were  softened  by  sorrow  and  sickness, 
and  at  such  times  she  would  go  daily 
to  their  sick  beds,  and  has  been  seen  sit- 
ting in  a  cottage,  waiting  till  a  sick  wo- 
man woke  from  sleep,  that  she  might  go 
on  with  her  reading. 

At  a  later  time,  when  she  was  too  weak 
and  sickly  to  do  this  in  person,  she  would 
depute  some  of  her  friends  or  servants, 
daily  to  visit  the  sick  and  carry  her 
books  with  them,  in  which  employment 
most  of  her  family,  who  appeared  fit  for 
it,  were  engaged  from  time  to  time. 

Thus  to  her  works  of  corporal  mercy, 
she  added  spiritual  mercy  too,  relieving 
the  wants  of  the  body  and  of  the  soul 
together,  and  seeking  to  promote  the 
health  of  both.  For  as  the  handmaid  of 
her  Lord,  she  strove  to  follow  both  the 
precepts  of  His  Sermon  and  also  the 
pattern  of  His  life,  when  He  cured  at 
once  the  diseases  both  of  soul  and  body. 

As  she  was  eminent  for  mercifulness, 
so  she  was  for  meekness  also  ;  for  though 
remarkable  for  her  clearness  of  under- 


28  LETTICE 

standing,  she  was  as  far  from  self-conceit 
as  from  ignorance.  It  was  her  habit 
when  any  subject  was  discussed,  to  offer 
her  objections  till  every  argument  she 
could  think  of  had  been  answered  ;  when 
this  had  been  done,  she  made  no  further 
difficulty,  but  cheerfully  and  readily 
submitted.  Her  understanding  leading 
the  way  in  meekness,  her  will  cheerfully 
followed  ;  and  bending  her  will  as  soon 
as  her  understanding  was  satisfied,  she 
seldom  refused  to  do  what  she  was  con- 
vinced was  fit  to  be  done. 

Her  greater  difficulty  was  with  her 
affections  ;  she  would  often  complain 
that  her  natural  temper  inclined  her  to 
anger,  and  being  so  well  aware  of  it, 
she  most  diligently  observed  herself,  and 
in  a  great  measure  conquered  that  frow- 
ard  inclination  ;  the  good  measure  of 
meekness  in  this  respect  which  she  at- 
tained to,  being  the  more  commendable 
because  of  the  many  difficulties  she  met 
with  in  the  endeavour. 

As  for  peaceableness,  as  much  as  in 
her  lay,  she  had  peace  with  all  men ; 
she  suffered  herself  to  be  defrauded  and 
damaged  in  her  estate,  rather  than  she 
would  disquiet  a  debtor  by  suits  at  law ; 
for  "  peace  is  equivalent,"  she  said,  "  to 
the  sum  detained."  Whilst  she  avoided 
lawsuits  herself,  she  endeavoured  also  to 
make  peace  between  her  neighbours  by 
all  her  art  and  power.  On  one  occasion 
when  she  thought  that  a  contention  was 
likely  to  arise  about  the  choice  of  a  par- 


TISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  29 

ish  officer,  she  hired  one  herself,  and  so 
kept  all  peaceable  and  quiet. 

Thus  she  hungered  and  thirsted  after 
peace,  and  after  righteousness  too  :  as 
the  chased  and  wearied  hart  pants  for 
the  water  brooks,  so  her  soul  seemed  to 
long  after  righteousness,  frequently  pant- 
ing, "  Oh  why  am  I  not  ?  oh  how  shall 
I  be  ?  oh  when  shall  I  be  perfect,  as  my 
Heavenly  Father  is  perfect  ?  " 

And  for  patient  suffering  :  in  the  latter 
part  of  her  life  she  was  seldom  free  from 
some  trouble  ;  spiritual  afflictions  and 
sorrow,  or  bodily  infirmities,  of  weakness 
and  sickness,  or  worldly  losses  in  her 
estate  ;  one  or  more  of  these,  or  the  like 
pressures  were  constantly  heavy  upon 
her,  yet  no  impatience,  and  little  dis- 
turbance, could  be  perceived  in  her ;  but 
when  all  these  trials  were  at  once  pres- 
ent, her  patience  triumphed  over  them  all. 

Some  persons  thought  her  in  love  with 
suffering,  when  she  refused  to  pay  con- 
tribution money  against  the  king,  and 
suffered  her  stock  of  great  value  to  be 
seized,  rather  than  to  pay  some  little  tax 
which  was  demanded  ;  it  seemed  to  such 
observers,  that,  not  content  with  carry- 
ing the  cross  if  it  was  laid  upon  her,  she 
went  to  meet  it ;  but  she  was  willing  to 
suffer  loss  rather  than  blemish  her  obe- 
dience and  loyalty  ;  so  that  till  the  king 
himself  granted  her  an  indulgence,  she 
refused  to  pay  contribution  to  the  neigh- 
bouring garrisons,  "which  were  against 
him. 


30  LETTICE 

Still  amidst  all  her  virtues,  a  poverty 
of  spirit  was  seen  in  her,  for  she  bewail- 
ed her  weaknesses  and  spiritual  wants ; 
and  when  those  about  her  wished,  as 
they  sometimes  did,  that  they  were  as 
forward  in  the  ways  of  religion  as  they 
saw  her,  she  would  answer,  "  Oh  ye  are 
not  so  backward  !  yet  wish  yourselves 
better !  ye  know  not  how  vile  and  cor- 
rupt my  heart  is." 

Thus  thinking  herself  still  a  beginner, 
she  practised  daily  those  graces  and 
virtues  to  which  our  Saviour  annexed 
such  special  blessings,  and  studied  to  be- 
come more  and  more  perfect  in  them. 

With  equal  diligence  she  practised  the 
duty  of  prayer  enjoined  in  the  same  ser- 
mon of  our  Lord,  spending  some  hours 
every  day  in  her  private  devotions  and 
meditations  ;  these  were  called  by  her 
family  her  busy  hours ;  Martha's  em- 
ployment was  her  recreation,  Mary's 
her  business. 

Her  maids  came  into  her  chamber 
early  every  morning,  and  usually  passed 
an  hour  with  her,  when  she  prayed, 
catechised,  and  instructed.  To  this 
were  daily  added  the  morning  and  even- 
ing prayers  of  the  Church,  before  dinner 
and  supper  ;  and  another  form  of  prayer, 
together  with  reading  the  Scriptures  and 
singing  psalms,  before  bed-time. 

She  charged  her  servants  to  be  pres- 
ent at  all  these  hours  of  prayer  if  their 
business  allowed  of  it,  but  never  suffer- 
ed  any  one  to  be  absent  from  all  the 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  31 

services  ;  if  she  observed  any  such,  she 
sent  for  them  into  her  chamber  and 
prayed  with  them  privately,  making  it 
a  rule  that  at  least  every  morning  and 
evening,  every  servant  in  her  house 
should  offer  the  sacrifice  of  prayer  and 
praises  to  God.  Nor  did  she  limit  the 
services  of  her  house  to  her  own  house- 
hold, but  opened  her  oratory  to  her 
neighbours  as  freely  as  her  hospitable 
hall. 

On  the  Lord's  day  she  rose  earlier 
than  on  other  days,  but  often  found  the 
day  too  short  for  her  private  duties,  and 
instructions  of  her  children  and  servants, 
so  that  she  would  sometimes  rise  on 
Monday  two  or  three  hours  before  day- 
light, to  supply  what  was  left  undone  the 
day  before. 

In  order  also  to  prepare  herself  for  the 
Sunday's  duty  beforehand,  she  seques- 
tered herself  on  the  Saturday  from  com- 
pany and  worldly  business,  and  seldom 
came  out  of  her  closet  till  towards  even- 
ing, when  her  chaplain  catechised  in  ad- 
dition to  the  usual  service  of  prayer. 

She  punctually  observed  the  other" 
Holy  Days  of  the  Church,  and  after  the 
public  service,  she  released  her  servants 
to  their  recreations,  and  the  care  of  their 
own  concerns,  saying,  "  These  days  are 
yours,  and  as  due  to  you,  as  ordinary 
days  to  my  employments."  On  these 
days  of  rest,  she  went  with  her  books  to 
her  unlearned  neighbours,  who  were  at 
leisure  to  hear  her  read,  whilst  their 
plough  and  their  wheel  stood  still. 


32  LETTICE 

She  strictly  observed  the  Fasts  of  the 
Church,  and  such  days  as  were  appoint- 
ed for  solemn  humiliation,  which  her 
whole  family,  great  and  small,  observed 
after*  the  pattern  of  the  Ninevites. 
When  the  calamities  of  the  country  in- 
creased, she  often  wished  that  lawful 
authority  would  appoint  not  only  the 
second  Friday,  but  the  last  Wednesday 
in  every  month,  to  be  kept  solemnly 
throughout  the  land,  that  their  fasts 
might  be  doubled  as  well  as  their  trou- 
bles. 

She  was  very  careful  in  preparing 
herself  to  receive  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper;  often,  at  such  times, 
fears  and  scruples  arose  within  her, 
tending  to  keep  her  back  from  that 
heavenly  banquet  :  but  having  cause 
on  examination,  and  after  advising  with 
her  minister,  to  consider  them  tempta- 
tions from  the  devil,  she  put  them  by, 
and  presented  herself  with  a  humble 
and  trembling  heart  at  that  blessed  Sac- 
rament. These  fears  and  scruples,  so 
far  from  prevailing  to  keep  her  from  the 
Lord's  table,  occasioned  a  steadfast  reso- 
lution on  her  part,  that  she  would  not, 
by  God's  help,  thenceforth  omit  any  op- 
portunity of  communicating ;  this  reso- 
lution she  always  kept  at  home,  and  if 
she  went  to  Oxford  or  London,  her  first 
inquiry  was,  where  and  when  there 
would  be  a  Communion,  to  secure  which 
she  would  sometimes  go  to  the  other  end 
of  the  city. 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  33 

She  exhorted  all  her  servants  to  ac- 
company her  to  the  Sacrament  ;  and 
those  who  were  prevailed  upon,  gave  in 
their  names  two  or  three  days  before, 
that  she  might  instruct  them  herself,  and 
obtain  the  help  of  her  chaplains  to  ex- 
amine them  and  instruct  them  further ; 
for  which  purpose,  the  day  before  their 
receiving  was  free  from  their  ordinary 
work.  When  they  had  received,  she 
called  them  together  again,  and  gave 
them  such  exhortations  as  were  proper 
for  them. 

"  This  very  care  and  piety  in  family 
duties,"  says  Duncan,  "  was  so  highly 
esteemed  of  in  Abraham,  that  God  made 
him  one  of  his  privy-council  (as  I  may 
so  say)  for  that  alone.  (Gen.  xviii.  17.) 
And  might  not  the  singular  wisdom,  and 
deep  knowledge  of  divine  councils,  and 
heavenly  mysteries,  which  this  daughter 
of  Abraham  had,  be  a  reward  of  that 
care  to  instruct  her  children  and  house- 
hold in  the  ways  of  God  ?" 

It  appears  that  at  this  time  Duncan, 
being  sequestered  from  his  cure  of  Rat- 
tendon  in  Essex,  was  living  in  Lady 
Falkland's  house  as  her  chaplain,  "with 
full  accommodations  and  plentiful  con- 
veniences;" and  in  return,  as  he  says, 
for  "reaping  carnal  things,"  he  endeav- 
oured to  sow  "  spiritual  things."  His 
account  of  her  mode  of  life  during  her 
widowhood  was  written  from  his  own 
personal  observation  ;  and  her  habits,  as 
it  appears,  were   cultivated   under  his 


34  LETTICE 

guidance.  He  found  her  "  afflicted 
with  a  barrenness  of  soul,  wanting  in- 
ward comforts ;"  and  after  frequent  con- 
versations with  her,  in  which  he  learned 
all  her  objections  against  herself,  and 
saw  the  sorrows  of  her  heart,  he  wrote 
for  her  benefit  a  series  of  letters,  under 
the  title  of  "The  Returns  of  Spiritual 
Comfort  and  Grief,  in  a  Devout  Soul." 
These  letters,  though  first  composed  for 
her,  were  adapted  to  more  general  use 
by  the  author  before  he  published  them, 
and  therefore  in  their  present  form  can 
hardly  be  taken  as  a  picture  of  Lady 
Falkland's  mind.  Only  the  first  of  them 
contains  so  much  more  detail  of  circum- 
stances, and  agrees  so  well  with  his  de- 
scription of  her  devotional  habits  as  given 
in  her  life,  that  though,  judging  by  the 
pronoun  at  the  end,  his  correspondent 
must  be  supposed  to  be  a  man  ;  ("I  de- 
sire your  prayers  for  him,  who  is  yours 
in  the  Lord,")  yet  it  seems  likely  that, 
in  the  first  instance,  Duncan  took  the 
particulars  mentioned  in  this  letter  from 
his  intercourse  with  Lady  Falkland,  at 
some  period  of  her  life. 

"  Your  spiritual  directions  I  have  ob- 
served as  punctually  as  I  could ;  I  am 
present  at  all  public  assemblies  in  the 
house  of  God,  and  bear  my  part  con- 
stantly in  that  solemn  worship  of  his 
name.  And  to  these  public  devotions,  I 
add  private  prayers  with  my  family, 
morning  and  evening,  and  to  them  secret 
in  my  closet,  and  these  duties  I  perform 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  35 

constantly.  Neither  am  I  less  constant 
at  sermons,  and  catechisings,  and  at  the 
Holy  Sacrament  of  our  most  blessed 
Lord's  body  and  blood,  though  I  cannot 
be  so  frequent  at  these  duties ;  those  I 
can  hear  but  once  a  week,  this  I  can  re- 
ceive but  once  a  month.  And  on  days 
of  humiliation,  I  labour  to  intermix  more 
earnest  as  well  as  more  frequent  pray- 
ers, for  the  public  necessities,  and  for 
mine  own  private  wants  ;  endeavouring 
to  observe  the  ordinary  and  extraordi- 
nary Fasts  of  the  Church,  as  strictly  as 
my  weak  body  and  my  weaker  flesh  will 
give  me  leave.  Now  I  miss  those  op- 
portunities I  had  at  Court  and  at  the 
Cathedral  Church  ;  either  of  those  places 
afforded  public  prayers  thrice  every  day, 
and  lectures  also  on  the  week  days. 
Nay,  it  is  not  here  so  well  with  me,  as 
it  was  when  you  and  I  lived  together  in 
that  country  village,  where  the  good 
parson  had  morning  and  evening  prayer 
in  the  parish  church,  twice  a  day  con- 
tinually ;  where  I  now  live,  we  have  this 
advantage  of  public  prayer  only  on  the 
Lord's  day  and  its  eve,  and  on  holy 
days  and  their  eves,  and  on  Wednesdays 
and  Fridays,  our  wonted  Litany  days ; 
now  I  find  not  that  other  analogy  be- 
tween our  prayers  and  the  incense  and 
perfumers  of  the  Tabernacle,  that  as 
those  were,  so  these  are  now  offered  up 
daily." 

In  some  verses  written  in  her  praise, 
it  is  said  that  "  Featley's  Handmaid  her 


36 


attendant  was,"  from  which  it  would 
appear  that  the  book  published  by  that 
divine,  under  the  name  of  the  "  Hand- 
maid to  Private  Devotion,"  was  habitu- 
ally used  by  her  in  her  retirements. 
While  she  persevered  in  the  religious 
course  of  life  which  she  embraced  in  her 
widowhood,  going  on  from  grace  to 
grace,  from  virtue  to  virtue,  a  fresh 
affliction  was  sent  to  quicken  her.  Her 
young  and  most  dear  son  Lorenzo,  whom 
God  had  endowed  with  choice  natural 
abilities,  and  who  showed  such  fair  blos- 
soms of  piety  as  made  her  affections 
towards  him  more  tender,  was  taken 
from  her. 

This,  added  to  her  former  troubles, — 
the  loss  of  her  husband,  her  crosses  in 
the  world,  and  her  spiritual  affliction, 
(which  came  often  upon  her,) — made  her 
burden  most  heavy.  She  wept  and 
mourned  all  the  day  long,  and  at  night 
also  watered  her  couch  with  tears,  and 
weeping  she  would  say,  "  Ah  !  this  im- 
moderate sorrow  must  be  repented  of, 
these  tears  wept  over  again  !"  Her 
quick  sense  of  displeasing  God  by  ex- 
treme grief  soon  allayed  its  vehemence. 
She  retired  into  herself  to  hearken  what 
the  Lord  would  say  unto  her,  in  this 
louder  call  of  affliction  ;  and  it  seemed 
to  be  prompted  to  her  that  she  was  not 
yet  weaned  enough  from  the  things  of 
this  world,  and  it  was  expedient  for  her 
that  some  of  the  worldly  comforts  she 
most  delighted  in  should  be  taken  away, 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  37 

that  her  conversation  might  be  yet  more 
spiritual  and  heavenly;  therefore  this  af- 
fliction seemed  to  call  her  to  a  greater 
mortification  to  the  world,  and  a  nearer 
conformity  to  Christ  her  Lord. 

But  fearing  that  her  sorrow  for  her 
son  was  still  exorbitant,  she  went  again 
to  ask  counsel  of  her  ghostly  physician, 
the  same  eminent  divine,  as  it  appears, 
whom  she  consulted  after  her  husband's 
death.  She  acquainted  him  with  the 
violence  of  those  fits  of  sorrow  which 
of  late  had  seized  upon  her  for  the  death 
of  her  son,  and  he,  by  his  good  counsel, 
with  God's  help,  cured  this  new  distem- 
per of  hers,  prescribing  antidotes  also  to 
prevent  a  lapse  into  this  malady  of  ex- 
cessive grief. 

She  returned  home,  confessing  that 
this  very  affliction  was  most  fit  for  her, 
and  that  it  should  turn  to  her  profit ; 
and,  cheered  by  this  confidence,  it  was 
observed  by  those  who  saw  her  on  ker 
return,  that  a  remarkable  change  had 
come  over  her,  as  great  as  that  which 
passed  upon  Hannah  when  Eli  promised 
a  son  in  answer  to  her  prayers. 

Thus  God  made  the  spiritual  medicine 
she  had  received  effectual,  and  the  anti- 
dote too ;  for  while  she  lamented  the 
excess  of  her  grief,  she  did  not  again 
give  way  to  it.  She  used  her  newly 
regained  cheerfulness  in  making  resolu- 
tions of  farther  progress  in  holiness,  and 
set  about  running  the  last  stages  of  her 
Christian  race  with  greater  speed  than 
b 


38 


any  former  ones.  Yet  before  she  began 
upon  the  fulfilment  of  these  new  pur- 
poses, she  was  tried  by  a  fresh  tempta- 
tion ;  she  feared  that  her  repentance 
was  not  sincere  enough  to  be  acceptable 
to  God,  and  reasoned  thus  with  herself: 
"  My  grief  for  my  sins  has  not  been  so 
vehement  as  that  for  my  son's  death ;  I 
wept  not  so  bitterly  for  them,  as  I  did 
for  that ;  and  therefore  my  repentance  is 
not  acceptable." 

In  this  anguish  of  spirit,  she  hastened 
again  to  her  learned  friend,  begging  for 
his  counsel ;  and  having  received  comfort 
from  his  prayers  and  conversation,  she 
returned  home  with  fresh  courage  and 
cheerfulness. 

This  temptation  to  despondency  being 
overcome,  she  entered  upon  the  per- 
formance of  her  resolutions,  in  obedience 
to  the  call  of  her  last  afflictions.  The 
vanity  of  apparel  she  had  cut  off  long 
before,  and  after  her  husband's  death, 
the  richness  of  it  too  ;  and  what  she 
spared  in  this,  she  bestowed  upon  the 
poor  members  of  Christ.  She  now  be- 
gan to  cut  off  all  other  worldly  pomp  ; 
she  gave  up  that  state  which  belonged 
to  her  rank,  in  her  house,  in  her  retinue, 
and  at  her  table,  and  took  more  delight 
in  seeing  her  revenues  spent  among  a 
crowd  of  alms-men  and  women  at  her 
door,  than  by  a  throng  of  servants  in  her 
house. 

She  made  renewed  efforts  to  subdue 
all  disposition  towards  anger,  avoiding 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  39 

for  that  purpose  any  conversation  which 
might  excite  it  ;  and  stifling  it,  if  it 
arose,  either  by  silence  or  turning  to 
some  other  subject.  She  undertook  at 
the  same  time  the  difficult  task  of  taming 
the  tongue  ;  and  for  this  purpose  re- 
frained for  a  while  from  speech  almost 
entirely,  then  loosened  it  a  little,  with 
two  cautions  : 

First,  that  it  should  "  never  speak 
evil  of  any  man,  though  truly,  but  only 
upon  a  design  of  charity,  to  reclaim  him 
from  that  evil."  And  because  a  vicious 
man  is  seldom  reclaimed  by  any  thing 
said  against  him  in  his  absence,  she 
gave  peremptory  charge  to  her  tongue, 
that  it  should  never  speak  evil  of  any 
man,  however  notoriously  wicked,  if  he 
was  absent  and  not  likely  to  be  amended 
by  it. 

The  second  caution  her  tongue  re- 
ceived was,  that  "  as  much  as  was  pos- 
sible, it  should  keep  in  every  idle  word, 
and  speak  out  only  that  which  was  to 
edification."  So  that  in  the  latter  part 
of  her  life  she  seldom  spoke  but  on  sub- 
jects relating  to  the  concerns  of  the  soul, 
seldom  even  with  her  friends  and  neigh- 
bours on  any  worldly  matters.  She  took 
the  same  care  in  writing  as  in  speaking, 
and  suffered  not  a  vain  nor  idle  word  to 
slip  from  her  pen.  She  avoided  also 
any  thing  like  compliments  in  her  letters, 
and  would  not  subscribe  herself  "  your 
servant,"  to  any  one  to  whom  she  was 
not  really  so. 

y  b  2 


40  LETTICE 

She  was  as  temperate  in  food  or  in- 
dulgence of  the  body  as  in  speech,  soon 
satisfied  with  meat  or  drink,  with  sleep 
and  ease,  as  far  from  daintiness  as  from 
intemperance,  and  that,  not  only  out  of 
care  to  her  health  and  respect  to  God's 
commandment,  but  from  a  consciousness, 
as  she  would  now  and  then  intimate, 
that  she  was  unworthy  to  enjoy  any 
thing,  for  quantity  or  quality,  above  the 
meanest  in  the  parish. 

Together  with  these  mortifications  of 
her  pomp  and  state,  and  of  her  appetites, 
she  now  also  severely  undertook  the 
mortification  of  her  natural  affection  to 
her  children  and  friends,  saying  to  some 
of  those  who  were  dearest  to  her,  "  O, 
love  me  not,  I  pray,  too  much  !  And 
God  grant  I  never  love  my  friends  too 
much  hereafter ;  that  hath  cost  me  dear, 
and  my  heart  hath  smarted  sore  with 
grief  for  it  already."  She  resigned  her 
will  and  understanding  as  well  as  her 
affections,  more  and  more  completely  to 
the  will,  and  to  the  wisdom  of  God. 
*' Whatsoever  comes  upon  me,"  she  said, 
**  I  will  bear  it  patiently,  because  by 
God's  will  it  eomes  ;  yea,  I  will  bear  it 
cheerfully,  because  by  God's  wisdom  it 
is  thus  ordered,  and  it  will  work  (as  ail 
things  else)  for  mine  advantage." 

Therefore  she  considered  the  death  of 
her  husband,  and  of  her  son,  as  real 
benefits  to  her,  and  would  say,  "  I  should 
offend  not  only  against  free  obedience 
and  submission,  but  also  against  common 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  41 

prudence,  if  I  should  wish  my  condition 
otherwise  than  now  it  is ;  I  cannot  wish 
any  thing  so  gainful  and  prosperous  to 
me  as  this,  which  my  Heavenly  Father 
in  His  wisdom  hath  ordered  for  me." 

She  resigned  herself  wholly  to  God, 
in  doing  as  well  as  in  suffering,  and  made 
it  her  object  in  every  thing,  to  ascertain 
first,  what  was  her  duty,  and  then  to 
fulfil  it.  When  matters  of  difficulty 
came,  she  usually  consulted  with  the 
most  learned  and  pious  divines  she  could 
meet  with,  and  after  hearing  their  opin- 
ion, applied  herself  to  follow  it,  what- 
ever inconvenience  might  happen  to  her- 
self. If  the  success  of  any  business  did 
not  answer  her  expectation,  she  showed 
no  trouble,  provided  her  conscience  bore 
her  witness  that  she  had  done  what  was 
her  duty  to  do  ;  and  seeing  it  was  God 
who  denied  her  success,  she  would  still 
hope,  and  say,  "  Though  at  this  time, 
this  way,  this  business  prospered  not, 
yet  at  some  other  time,  some  other  way, 
it  will  be  successful  unto  me.  This  do- 
ing my  duty  will  be,  some  time  or  other, 
some  way  or  other,  for  mine  advan- 
tage." 

She  endeavoured  to  practise  more 
fully  than  before,  those  precepts  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  which  she  had 
already  taken  as  her  rule,  increasing  in 
mercifulness  :  for  whereas,  before,  the 
main  of  her  revenue  was  for  her  own 
maintenance,  the  superfluity  of  it  for  her 
charity,  now  she  reversed  this  order,  and 
b  3 


42  LETTICE 

after  reckoning  up  such  sums  as  were  to 
be  spent  quarterly  on  charitable  pur- 
poses, the  small  pittance  which  remained 
she  accounted  her  own,  and  ordered  her 
course  of  life  accordingly  ;  "  very  well 
content,  though  she  herself  made  a  shift 
with  Agur's  single  food  and  raiment, 
(Prov.  xxx.  8.,)  that  others,  who  de- 
pended on  her,  should  (as  the  household 
of  Lemuel's  virtuous  woman)  be  fed, 
and  clothed  with  double.  Prov.  xxxi. 
21." 

Her  meekness  increased  also  till  she 
was  clothed  with  it  as  a  robe,  covering 
her  with  the  beauty  of  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit.  Her  compassions,  deep  as  they 
were  before,  grew  more  and  more  ten- 
der, bringing  tears  to  her  eyes  when  she 
saw  or  heard  of  distress,  and  opening 
her  hand  wide  for  the  comfort  of  the 
poor  and  needy.  Where  her  hand  of 
charity  could  not  reach,  her  feelings  of 
compassion  found  their  way ;  and  those 
who  sat  with  her  at  meals,  saw  the 
earnestness  of  her  sorrow,  when  the 
miseries  of  the  Church  and  kingdom 
were  the  subject  of  conversation. 

She  was  almost  pined  with  hunger, 
and  faint  with  thirst,  after  righteousness  ; 
ever  and  anon  sighing,  "  O,  that  I  could 
attain  unto  it !  O,  that  my  ways  were 
made  so  direct!"  It  was  usual  with 
her  at  night  to  compose  herself  to  sleep, 
saying  to  her  woman,  not  without  some 
joy,  "  Well,  now  I  am  one  day  nearer 
my  journey's  end  :"  comforting  herself, 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  43 

that  when  her  body  should  sleep  in  the 
bed  of  her  grave,  then  the  days  of  sin 
would  be  finished,  and  then  she  should 
be  perfect,  as  her  Heavenly  Father  is 
perfect. 

She  read  a  learned  strict  treatise  on 
Justice,  and  made  its  rules  her  standard, 
practising  them  most  precisely  ;  and  in 
more  perplexed  and  difficult  cases,  she 
would  send  to  some  divines,  of  whose 
piety  and  fervour  she  had  a  good  opinion, 
and  desire  them  to  pray  as  she  herself 
did,  that  she  might  act  justly,  swerving 
neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  to  the  left. 

Once,  during  her  absence  from  home, 
the  sutlers  of  the  army  came  to  her 
house,  and  took  provisions,  paying  for 
every  thing  that  they  took  the  highest 
price,  for  which  her  servant  accounted  to 
her  on  her  return  ;  she  then  reckoned  up 
exactly  what  each  article  had  cost  her, 
and  sent  carefully  up  and  down  the  army 
to  find  the  sutlers,  and  to  restore  the 
overplus,  which  she  thought  it  not  just 
in  her  to  keep,  nor  was  her  hunger  and 
thirst  after  that  instance  of  justice  satis- 
fied, till  she  heard  that  the  money  was 
repaid. 

For  the  other  points  of  our  Saviour's 
Sermon,  her  charity  suspected  few,  and 
judged  none  of  her  neighbours  ;  she  had 
an  eagle's  eye  to  espy  any  good,  if  only 
inclination  to  good  that  they  had  in  them, 
but  a  mole's  eye  to  evil  in  her  brethren, 
were  it  even  shown  in  actions.  Her 
slowness  to  believe  ill  reports  drove  all 
b  4 


44 


tale  bearers  away  from  her;  yet  when 
faults  were  evident  in  such  as  she  had 
charge  over,  she  would  reprove  them 
with  a  great  deal  of  power. 

She  was  most  respectful  to  her  supe- 
riors, courteous  and  affable  towards  in- 
feriors, cautious  of  giving  offence,  either 
by  word  or  gesture,  and  as  cautious  lest 
any  one  should  take  offence  at  any 
speech  or  look  of  hers  towards  them ; 
for  either  way  she  said,  "in  offences 
given  or  taken,  God  is  offended."  Her 
humility  in  begging  forgiveness  from 
others  was  most  singular  ;  during  the 
latter  part  of  her  life,  she  seldom  slept 
till  she  had  asked  forgiveness  as  well  as 
blessing,  from  her  mother,  that  if  she 
had  in  any  way  offended  her,  she  might 
be  sure  of  her  pardon. 

But  that  which  more  astonished  the 
inmates  of  her  house,  was  to  see  this 
noble  lady  begging  forgiveness  from  her 
inferiors  and  servants,  for  her  angry 
words  or  chiding  frowns  towards  them  ; 
and  sometimes  asking  their  pardon  when 
she  had  expressed  no  anger  outwardly, 
because,  said  she,  "  somewhat  I  felt 
within  myself,  too  like  anger  towards 
you,  though  I  suppressed  it  as  soon  as  I 
could." 

More  than  once  or  twice  before  her 
last  illness,  she  was  in  her  closet  upon 
her  knees  ready  for  her  prayers,  when 
she  remembered  that  her  "brother" 
might  possibly  have  somewhat  against 
her,  for  a  word,  or  a  look,  or  a  negligent 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  45 

silence  a  little  while  before,  and  then 
she  rose  and  went  to  ask  pardon  before 
she  proceeded  to  her  prayers,  that  she 
might  strictly  observe  our  Lord's  injunc- 
tion to  those  who  bring  a  gift  to  his  al- 
tar ;  so  that  it  was  always  her  chief  care 
to  lift  up  pure  hands  in  prayer,  without 
wrath,  and  to  have  it  allayed  either  in 
herself,  or  in  others  towards  her,  before 
she  offered  her  gift  of  prayer. 

Whilst  all  these  graces  and  virtues  by 
God's  help  grew  in  her,  a  true  poverty 
of  spirit  grew  along  with  them.  The 
more  holy  she  was,  the  more  humbly 
she  walked  with  God  ;  in  her  greatest 
abundance  she  complained  most  of  spir- 
itual wants.  It  seemed  that  the  bright 
lustre  of  her  virtue  gave  her  light  to 
spy  out  corruptions  in  herself,  which 
she  could  not  see  before,  and  these  she 
lamented  more  sadly  now  than  for- 
merly. 

She  advanced  at  the  same  time  in  her 
duties  of  prayer.  She  added  an.  oratory 
to  her  nursery,  and  her  children  had 
private  devotions  appointed  for  them  by 
herself;  they  read  Morning  and  Evening 
Prayers  and  Lessons,  at  their  rising  up 
and  at  their  lying  down,  and  their  spare 
minutes  were  destined,  like  her  own,  to 
learning  Psalms  out  of  books.  They 
opened  the  day  with  one  of  the  seven 
Eucharistical  Psalms,  that  they  might 
thank  God  for  renewing  His  loving- 
kindness  to  them  in  the  morning,  and 
they  closed  the  day  with  one  of  the 
b  5 


46  LETTICE 

seven  Penitential  Psalms,*  that  they 
might  ask  pardon  for  the  offences  com- 
mitted in  the  course  of  it.  She  took 
care  to  season  their  affections  and  memo- 
ries with  good  things ;  she  trained  them 
up  to  the  practice  of  those  virtues  com- 
mended in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
and  directed  that  an  explanation  of  it 
should  be  annexed  to  their  first  Cate- 
chism. 

There  were  some  who  objected  to  the 
continuance  of  the  Church  Service  in 
her  house,  and  apprehended  that  danger 
would  be  incurred  by  continuing  it.  To 
quiet  their  fears,  the  story  of  the  Lady 
Knevit  in  Norfolk,  at  the  time  of  Queen 
Mary,  was  publicly  read  in  her  house- 
hold. The  story  is  this.  A  persecuted 
minister  of  the  English  Church,  being 
in  Lady  Knevit's  house,  read  the  Morn- 
ing and  Evening  Prayer  of  King  Edward 
the  Vlth's  Prayer  Book  constantly  in 
her  family,  though  there  was  an  act  of 
Parliament  against  it.  Hereupon  the 
holy  lady  was  threatened  to  be  punished 
for  it,  but  went  on,  notwithstanding,  in 
that  course  of  piety,  promising  to  wel- 
come the  punishment  whenever  it  came  ; 
and  though  many  persons  resorted  to  her 
house  who  were  ill-affected  to  that  form 
of  prayer,  yet  they  commonly  knelt 
down  and  joined  in  prayers  with  her ; 
nor  did  they  offer  her  any  molestation  in 
the  performance  of  this  duty. 

*  Ps.  6,  32,  38,  51, 102,  130,  and  143, 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  47 

Every  passage  in  this  story  was  so 
applicable  to  Lady  Falkland's  case,  that 
she  wanted  neither  an  answer  to  object- 
ors, nor  courage  to  go  on  in  her  wonted 
course ;  and  the  event  was  the  same  as 
in  Lady  Knevit's  case ;  for  though  com- 
plaints were  made,  threats  were  sent  to 
her,  and  many  persons  quartered  upon 
her  who  liked  not  the  form  of  prayer 
and  had  power  to  suppress  it,  yet,  by 
God's  good  providence,  that  power  of 
theirs  was  not  used  against  her. 

She  was  as  constant  and  as  resolute 
in  her  other  hours  of  prayer  and  medita- 
tion. The  entertainment  of  guests,  or 
the  haste  of  necessary  business,  did  not 
detain  her  from  these  devotions  ;  in  her 
deepest  griefs  and  disturbances,  in  her 
highest  comforts  and  rejoicings,  she  was 
most  constant  at  them ;  and  even  if  she  ' 
could  not  discharge  these  duties  at  her 
accustomed  hours,  yet  her  eyes  were  not 
suffered  to  sleep  till  she  had  gone  through 
them.  When  she  must  lose  her  sleep, 
or  God  this  His  service,  she  readily  de- 
cided which  was  fittest  of  the  two. 

Her  last  work  every  evening,  was  to 
eview  with  diligence  all  the  works  of 
that  day,  her  thoughts,  words  and  deeds; 
what  had  happened  in  this  room  or  in 
that,  what  in  this  or  that  company,  what 
good  or  evil  she  had  done,  what  oppor- 
tunities of  benefiting  others  she  had  em- 
braced or  neglected  ;  what  comforts  and 
blessings  she  had  that  day  received ; 
and  after  this  examination,  giving  thanks 
b  6 


48  LETTieE 

and  begging  pardon  in  every  particular 
as  occasion  required,  having  communed 
with  her  own  heart  in  her  bed-chamber, 
she  was  still. 

Thus  she  made  proficiency  in  the 
several  points  of  our  Saviour's  Sermon; 
and  whilst  increasing  in  faith  and  judg- 
ment, the  weightier  matters  of  the  law, 
she  would  not  leave  the  lesser  undone. 

She  thought  the  laws  of  God  were  not 
all  performed,  if  any  laws  of  the  king 
were  neglected  ;  and  therefore  she  was 
wont  earnestly  to  press  obedience  to  all 
things  required  by  the  laws  of  the  king- 
dom :  even  to  penal  laws  against  shoot- 
ing and  hunting,  and  the  like  ;  and  would 
not  suffer  any  person  belonging  to  her,  to 
transgress  in  these  lesser  matters,  ob- 
serving, "  That  the  lawgivers  made  their 
'penal  laws  for  obedience,  not  for  mulct, 
and  their  first  and  chief  endeavour  was, 
that  their  laws  should  be  observed,  not 
that  the  offender  should  be  punished." 

Having  thus  far  improved  herself,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  in  a  holy  and  spiritual 
life,  she  now  laboured  to  improve  others 
also,  and  being  made  strong,  to  strength- 
en her  brethren.  She  entered  into  an 
agreement  with  her  acquaintance,  espe- 
cially those  with  whom  she  conversed 
most  frequently,  that  they  should  take 
liberty  to  reprove  whatever  they  saw 
wrong  in  her,  and  also  that  they  should 
give  her  the  same  liberty  with  them, 
saying  to  them,  "  There  is  no  friendship 
without  this ;  and  if  you  suffer  me  to  be 


VISCOUNTESS    PALKLAND.  49 

undone  forever,  or  I  you, — how  are  we 
friends  ? " 

She  had  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
some  strict  Papists',  and  some  still  stricter 
Nonconformists  ;  but  remaining  unbias- 
sed by  their  opinions,  she  earnestly  la- 
boured to  bring  them  each  from  their 
errors,  and  not  without  happy  success. 
In  other  instances  also,  she  won  back 
members  of  our  Church  of  England,  who 
had  been  tempted  to  Rome  or  to  Geneva* 
But  the  improvement  of  her  nearer 
friends  was  her  constant  labour. 

The  warning  which  she  gave  to  young 
mothers,  not  to  exceed  in  fondness  for 
their  husbands  and  children,  came  suit- 
ably and  afTectingly*from  her.  "  Oh,  I 
have  had  my  portion,"  said  she,  "  of 
these  very  comforts  :  with  the  first,  no 
one  woman  more  ;  but  there  is  no  lasting 
nor  true  pleasure  in  them.  There  is  no 
real  comfort  from  any  espousals  but  from 
those  to  Christ." 

The  benefit  she  had  received  ever 
since  her  childhood,  from  pious  and 
learned  divines,  made  her  careful  to  pro- 
vide such  for  her  neighbours  ;  to  those 
clergymen  who  officiated  in  the  parish, 
she  would  suggest  what  virtues  might 
be  properly  commended  in  their  sermons 
and  discourses,  assisting  them  with  her 
experience,  till  they  had  gained  some  of 
their  own,  and  constantly  working  with 
them  in  catechising  the  young  and  visit- 
ing the  sick. 

The  remembrance  of  those  heavenly 
b  7 


50 


comforts  which  she  had  often  received 
from  the  Psalms,  encouraged  her  to  re- 
commend them  as  daily  and  hourly  de- 
votions to  all  people.  Yet  even  the 
Psalms  became  an  occasion  of  pain  to 
her,  when  she  heard  of  the  prophetical 
curses  of  David  being  applied  both  in 
private  families  and  in  public  congrega- 
tions, to  particular  enemies.  "  Oh,  that 
sweetest  harp  sounds  most  harshly,"  she 
would  say,  "  unless  it  be  touched  by 
pure  hands,  without  wrath !  therefore 
the  people  must  be  often  warned,  in 
these  days  of  contention  and  opposition, 
to  sing  David's  Psalms,  with  David's 
spirit  ;  and  when  %  cursing  of  enemies 
came  in,  to  reflect,  as  David  often  did, 
upon  the  lusts  and  corruptions  of  our 
hearts  ;  and  then  the  109th  Psalm,  (a 
common  curse  among  the  Hebrews,)  be 
upon  those  our  vilest  enemies,  and  most 
deadly  foes,  little  enough." 

Nor  did  she  confine  her  care  of  im- 
proving others  to  the  present  age  ;  she 
had  also  projects  for  posterity,  of  setting 
up  schools  and  manufacturing  trades  in 
the  parish,  that  by  these  she  might  shut 
out  ignorance,  idleness,  and  want. 

A  scheme  was  much  in  her  thoughts, 
for  providing  places  for  the  education  of 
young  gentlewomen,  and  the  retirement 
of  widows,  (as  Colleges  and  the  Inns  of 
Court  and  Chancery  are  for  men,)  in  sev- 
eral parts  of  the  kingdom  ;  she  hoped 
that  learning  and  religion  might  flourish 
more   in   her  own  sex,  by  their  having 


VISCOUNTKSS    FALKLAND.  51 

such  opportunities  to  serve  the  Lord 
without  distraction.  This  project  might 
not  have  beeh  beyond  her  reach  to  ac- 
complish, through  the  power  and  interest 
that  she  had  with  the  great  men  of  her 
day,  but  thai?  the  evil  times  disabled  her. 
When  she  found  herself  unable  to  fulfil 
these  designs  for  the  good  of  the  king- 
dom, she  returned  with  fresh  vigour  to 
the  care  of  improving  herself. 

Her  zeal  in  the  work  of  self-examina- 
tion, her  strictness  with  herself,  and  fear 
of  offending,  sometimes  produced  doubts 
and  scruples  ;  and  when  troubled  by 
them,  she  seldom  trusted  her  own  judg- 
ment, but  consulted  with  learned  di- 
vines ;  and  when  she  met  with  any  one 
of  learning  and  piety,  she  proposed  her 
cases  of  conscience,  and  asked  for  an- 
swers. On  these  occasions  she  would 
dispute  against  herself  very  sharply  ; 
but  when  her  objections  had  once  been 
answered,  and  she  was  satisfied,  she  sub- 
mitted cheerfully,  and  ordered  her  future 
practice  accordingly. 

Her  holy  fear,  like  her  other  virtues, 
extended  itself  not  only  to  greater  mat- 
ters, but  to  the  least ;  and  from  her  love 
as  well  as  fear  of  God,  she  dreaded  to 
offend  Him  in  the  least  particular.  "  If 
it  be  but  a  mote,  may  it  not  grow,"  said 
she,  "to  a  beam  in  mine  eye  ? " 

Greedily  aspiring  after  perfection,  she 

feared  the  smallest  errors  ;  and  if  any 

of  her  scruples  proceeded  from  her  own 

carnal  reason,  or  from  Satan,  to  disquiet 

b  8 


52  LETTICE 

her,  yet  even  that  poison  she  turned  into 
honey,  taking  occasion  from  those  very 
scruples,  to  he  more  exact  afterwards  in 
her  life. 

Such  are  the  remarks  made  by  Dun- 
can upon  those  scruples ;  in  answer  to 
which,  he  wrote  the  last  letter  in  the 
collection,  though  like  the  former  ones 
it  is,  as  now  published,  addressed  to  a 
man. 

The  earlier  letters  treated  of  the 
comforts  and  sorrows  of  a  person  careful 
for  the  soul,  the  pleasures  of  God's  ser- 
vice, and  the  fears  of  His  displeasure  ; 
but  this  last  gives  an  answer  to  inquiries- 
regarding  such  doubts  and  scruples  as 
continually  arose. 

"  One  while  I  fear,  I  indulge  too  much 
liberty  to  others,  and  too  little  to  myself; 
another  while,  that  I  am  too  strict  to 
others,  and  too  remiss  to  myself;  and 
therefore  I  mete  not  to  others,  as  I  mete 
to  myself.  I  multiply  queries  against; 
myself,  whether  this  duty  was  well  per- 
formed, or  not  ;  this  action  lawful,  or 
not ;  that  word  or  silence,  seasonable  or 
not ;  and  for  commerce  and  traffic  with 
my  neighbours,  whether  this  and  that 
bargain  were  just,  not  prejudicing  my- 
self, nor  over-reaching  them.  And  when 
I  would  give  thanks  for  any  thing  well 
done,  (through  God's  grace  in  me,)  I 
think  it  might  have  been  better  done, 
and  that  therefore  my  thanksgiving  may 
be  deferred." 

"  Now,,  sir,  if  these  motions  be  from 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  53 

the  Spirit  of  God  in  me,  I  must  hearken 
what  the  Lord  God  saith  to  my  soul ;  at 
my  utmost  peril  it  is,  if  I  receive  not,  and 
cherish  not  those  motions  ;  and  if  they 
be  doubts  I  raise  of  myself,  they  are  not 
to  be  neglected,  there  is  danger  (my 
books  tell  me)  in  that ;  but  if  they  be 
scruples,  heeding  them  is  dangerous  ;  so 
there  is  danger  on  every  side." 

The  questions  here  given  may  perhaps 
be  examples  of  those  which  Lady  Falk- 
land put  to  her  spiritual  guides ;  and 
Duncan's  answer,  which  is  a  long  one, 
shows,  "  that  a  tender  conscience  is  most 
subject  to  scruples ;  that  there  is  a  differ- 
ence between  a  scrupulous  and  a  doubt- 
ful conscience ;  and  gives  eleven  direc- 
tions to  cure  or  prevent  a  scrupulous 
conscience." 

It  seems  indeed  from  his  account  of 
her  life,  that  from  her  childhood  there 
had  been  a  tendency  to  melancholy  in 
her  disposition,  since  at  the  age  of  thir- 
teen she  was  first  troubled  by  fears  for 
the  welfare  of  her  soul ;  and  in  her  most 
prosperous  days  she  was  reproached  by 
her  friends  for  the  little  pleasure  that 
she  showed  in  her  possessions.  This 
disposition  to  melancholy  was  accompa- 
nied by  a  scrupulousness  which  her  hus- 
band's character  may  not  have  tended  to 
counteract.  His  refinement  of  mind, 
and  purity  of  heart,  seem  rather  to  have 
laid  him  open  to  the  persuasions  of  false 
pretenders  to  religion  and  patriotism, 
than  to  have  guarded  liim  from  their 
b  9 


M 


snares ;  as  if  in  the  difficult  times  where 
his  lot  was  cast,  he  weighed  all  abuses 
with  anxiety,  and  was  attracted  by  the 
hope  of  reforms.  But  when  once  his 
part  was  taken,  he  persevered  faithfully 
and  bravely  in  his  king's  service  till  he 
fell  fighting  in  his  cause,  one  of  the  ear- 
liest and  most  honoured  victims  of  re- 
bellion, and  so  found  rest  from  the  sad- 
ness which  clouded  his  latter  days, 
though  it  did  not  deaden  his  energies. 
The  few  years  during  which  his  wife 
survived  him,  could  not  be  other  than 
years  of  mourning;  but  however  deject- 
ed by  sadness,  or  perplexed  by  scruples, 
3he  did  not  deviate  from  the  cause  which 
she  began  in  youth  ;  her  fears  and  doubts 
only  urged  her  to  consult  the  wisest 
ministers  of  her  Church ;  continued  acts 
of  piety  and  charity  occupied  her  time, 
and  the  fresh  affliction  of  her  youngest 
son's  death  determined  her  to  a  yet 
stricter  course  of  life  than  that  which 
she  had  embraced  upon  becoming  a 
widow.  The  more  her  earthly  affections 
were  disappointed,  the  higher  above 
earth  she  strove  to  raise  her  soul ;  and 
now  but  a  short  struggle  remained,  be- 
fore she,  like  her  husband,  found  the 
peace  which  both  had  sought  in  vain  on 
earth.  She  had  resolved  to  get  loose 
from  the  multitude  of  her  worldly  em- 
ployments, and  to  remove  from  her 
stately  mansion  to  a  little  house  near 
adjoining  ;  and  in  that  house  and  garden, 
with  a  book,  and  a  wheel,  and  a  maid  or 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  55 

iwo,  to  withdraw  herself  from  wordly 
business  and  unnecessary  visits  ;  and 
she  took  as  great  delight  in  planning  this 
humiliation  and  privacy,  as  others  do  in 
advancement  to  honours  and  employ- 
ments. 

On  the  last  Christmas  day  of  her  life 
she  received  the  Holy  Communion ;  and 
feeling  still  a  want  of  such  strength  as 
she  desired  in  her  soul,  she  had  thoughts 
of  coming  to  it  again  on  the  next  Lord's 
day  :  but  that  very  morning  she  had  a 
sore  conflict  and  great  anguish  of  spirit ; 
at  one  moment  her  unworthiness,  and  at 
another  her  dullness  and  dryness,  deter- 
red her  from  approaching  the  Holy 
Sacrament :  then  she  was  dissuaded  from 
it  by  the  singularity  of  receiving  it  so 
often.  After  an  hour  or  two  she  found 
reason  to  suppose  that  this  might  be  a 
temptation  from  her  great  enemy  to 
keep  her  from  the  means  of  her  defence, 
and  so  holding  firm  to  her  resolution,  she 
came  again  to  the  blessed  Sacrament, 
and  received  with  it  much  comfort  and 
peace. 

Not  many  days  after,  fresh  tempta- 
tions assailed  her  with  great  vehemence, 
leading  her  to  suspect  her  whole  course 
of  life,  as  so  full  of  weakness  at  the  best, 
and  often  so  full  of  gross  corruptions, — 
her  faith  so  weak,  her  repentance  so 
faint,  that  God  would  not  accept  of  her. 
But  her  shield  of  faith  in  Christ's  merits 
soon  repelled  these  darts,  and  her  wonted 
sanctuary  of  prayer  secured  her  from 
this  storm  of  temptation. 


56  LETTICE 

Her  peace  of  mind  was  restored, 
when  she  was  hurried  to  London,  in  the 
bitterest  season  of  this  winter,  to  attend 
to  some  business  which  she  thought  piety 
and  justice  required  her  to  discharge ; 
believing  this  to  be  her  duty,  she  ven- 
tured on  the  journey,  and  left  the  event 
to  God. 

In  London  she  strengthened  herself 
yet  more  for  the  end  of  her  race,  by  re- 
ceiving the  Holy  Sacrament  again;  but 
though  her  inward  strength  increased, 
her  bodily  strength  was  decaying,  and 
her  weak  consumptive  frame  grew  weak- 
er by  a  cold  that  she  caught  there.  Yet 
she  set  off  to  travel  homewards  :  and  at 
Oxford,  as  her  cough  and  cold  very 
much  increased,  she  began  to  prepare 
for  death,  with  most  earnest  prayers  and 
holy  meditations,  suggested  to  her  by  a 
pious  and  learned  divine. 

After  a  while,  they  who  were  about 
her,  fearing  the  pangs  of  death  to  be 
upon  her,  began  to  weep  and  lament ; 
the  whole  company  grew  sad  and  heavy ; 
she  only  continued  in  her  former  condi- 
tion, not  at  all  sorrowful,  nor  affrighted 
by  these  messengers  of  death.  Then 
the  physician  coming,  and  upon  consid- 
eration saying,  "  Here  is  no  sign  of 
death,  nor  of  much  danger ;  by  God's 
help  she  may  recover  again  ;"  the  whole 
company  was  very  much  comforted  and 
cheered.  She  only  remained  in  her 
former  indifferency  ;  no  alteration  at  all 
could  be  perceived  in  her,  as  if  she  had 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  57 

been  the  only  party  in  the  chamber  un- 
concerned in  it ;  neither  fear  of  death 
could  grieve  nor  trouble  her,  nor  hopes 
of  life  and  health  rejoice  her:  "I  have 
wholly  resigned  up  myself  to  God,"  said 
she,  **  and  not  mine,  but  His  will  be 
done,  whether  in  life  or  death."  She 
was  not  afraid  to  live,  and  still  endure 
the  miseries  of  this  life,  (and  ever  and 
anon  encounter  with  Satan  too,)  because 
she  had  a  powerful  God  able  to  uphold 
her  ;  nor  yet  afraid  to  die,  and  appear 
at  God's  judgment-seat,  because  she  had 
a  merciful  Redeemer,  willing  to  save 
her." 

The  remainder  of  the  narrative  shall 
be  given  in  Duncan's  words,  addressed 
to  Lady  Morison,  without  alteration  or 
omission. 

"  Thus  she  was  brought  from  Oxford, 
home  ;  and  now  being  far  spent,  and 
near  her  end,  she  could  speak  little,  yet 
expressed  a  great  deal  of  thankfulness  to 
God,  who  had  brought  her  safe,  to  die 
in  her  own  house,  among  her  dearest 
friends. 

"  And  there  she  showed  those  friends 
a  rare  pattern  of  patience  in  the  extrem- 
ity of  her  sickness. 

"  But  the  tranquillity  of  mind,  which 
she  had  in  these  her  last  days,  was  most 
observable  ;  that  the  devil,  who  had  so 
often  perplexed  her  with  violent  temp- 
tations, should  now  leave  her  to  rest  and 
ease  :  she  was  wont  to  fear  his  most  vio- 
lent assaults  on  her  death-bed,   as  his 


58  LETT1CE 

practice  commonly  is,  but  now  God,  it 
seems,  had  chained  him  up,  and  enabled 
her,  by  His  grace,  to  tread  Satan  under 
her  feet :  not  a  word  of  complaint,  nor 
the  least  disturbance,  or  disquiet,  to  be 
perceived  by  her,  which  is  a  sufficient 
argument  to  us,  (who  knew  how  open  a 
breast  she  had,  to  reveal  any  thing  in 
that  kind,  especially  to  divines,  whereof 
she  had  now  store  about  her,)  of  her  ex- 
ceeding great  quietness  and  peace  :  and 
this  tranquillity  of  mind  more  clearly  now 
appearing  at  her  death,  than  ordinarily 
in  the  time  of  her  health,  is  a  great  evi- 
dence to  me,  of  God's  most  tender  mercy 
and  love  towards  her,  and  of  some  good 
assurance,  in  her,  of  her  salvation. 

"  This  quiet  gave  her  leave,  though 
now  very  faint  and  weak,  to  be  most 
vigorous  and  most  instant  at  prayers  ; 
she  calls  for  other  help,  very  faintly  ; 
but  for  prayers,  most  heartily  and  often  ; 
(in  those  few  hours  she  lived  at  home  ;) 
and  after  the  office  of  the  morning  was 
performed,  she  gave  strict  charge,  that 
every  one  of  her  family  who  could  be 
spared  from  her,  should  go  to  church  and 
pray  for  her ;  and  then,  in  a  word  of  ex- 
hortation to  them  who  stayed  by  her, 
saying,  "  Fear  God,  fear  God,"  she 
most  sweetly  spent  her  last  breath  ;  and 
so  most  comfortably  yielded  up  her 
spirit  to  Him  who  made  it ;  and  was,  we 
doubt  not,  admitted  into  heaven,  into  the 
number  of  the  Apostles  and  Saints  of 
God,  (on   St.  Matthias-day,)  there   to 


VISCOUNTESS    FALKLAND.  59 

reign  in  the  glory  of  God  for  ever- 
more. 

"  In  which  moment  of  her  death,  there 
seemed  as  little  outward  pain,  as  inward 
conflict  ;  none  could  perceive  either 
twitch,  or  groan,  or  gasp,  or  sigh  :  only 
her  spirit  failed ;  and  so  she  vanished 
from  us,  as  if  God  had  intended  her  here 
some  foretaste,  not  only  of  the  rest  of 
the  soul,  but  also  of  the  ease  of  the  body, 
which  she  should  enjoy  hereafter  in 
heaven. 

"  Thus,  in  her  youth,  she  was  soon 
perfected  ;  and  in  the  short  time  of  five 
and  thirty  years,  she  fulfilled  a  long 
time. 

"  And  having  in  a  most  acceptable 
manner  practised  the  duties  of  our  most 
blessed  Saviour's  Sermon,  she  is  now, 
we  firmly  believe,  a  partaker  of  the 
blessedness  too  of  that  Sermon  :  through 
Christ's  mercy,  she  hath  obtained  mer- 
cy, and  enjoys  the  vision  of  God,  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  where  she  is  most 
fully  satisfied  with  delight,  and  comfort, 
and  joy. 

"  There  were  these,  and  many  other 
virtues,  your  ladyship  knows,  observable 
in  this  your  most  pious  daughter :  but  I 
pretend"  not  to  relate  all :  many  I  omit, 
because  common  to  all  the  servants  of 
God  ;  and  many  other  excellencies  also 
there  were  in  her,  (I  doubt  not,)  which 
she  concealed  from  her  nearest  friends  ; 
and  indeed,  many  of  these  I  have  named, 
she  endeavoured  studiously  to  conceal 


60 


from  us ;  but  now  and  then,  unawares, 
she  discovered  them,  and  so  I  became 
acquainted  with  them. 

"  And  now,  madam,  you  have  observ- 
ed, that  the  growth  of  grace,  which  was 
most  evident  and  apparent  in  her,  espe- 
cially these  late  years,  (as  if  come  from 
a  blade  to  an  ear,  then  to  a  blossom,  and 
thence  towards  full  maturity  and  ripe- 
ness,) was  most  of  all  promoted  by  the 
afflictions  which  God  sent  upon  her  :  the 
loss  of  her  dearest  friends,  and  other 
troubles,  were  as  a  shower  of  rain  to  a 
crop  of  corn,  on  a  dry  ground  ;  an  evi- 
dent benefit,  and  a  present  improvement 
by  it. 

"  And  was  there  not  then  somewhat 
extraordinary  in  that  dream  of  hers,  soon 
after  her  son's  death,  wherein  she  being 
much  troubled  for  that  loss,  a  ladder 
presently  appeared,  reaching  (with  that 
ladder  in  Jacob's  dream)  from  earth  to 
heaven  ?  After  the  death  of  her  son, 
every  one  of  us  could  sensibly  perceive 
her  climbing  up  higher  and  higher  every 
day,  in  piety  and  holiness,  till  God  ex- 
alted her  to  the  top  of  Jacob's  ladder, 
the  height  of  glory  in  heaven. 

"  So  it  may  be  with  every  one  who 
suffers  inward  or  outward  affliction. 

"  And  now,  though  all  this  while  I 
have  been  comforting  your  ladyship, 
and  wiping  the  tears  from  your  eyes, 
yet  I  have  detained  you  too  long,  I  fear, 
from  improving"  this  affliction  sent  upon 
you,   (the  loss  of  your  dearest  child,) 


FRANCES  COUNTESS  OF  CARBERY.     61 

with  that  haste  and  greediness  you  de- 
sired, to  your  spiritual  benefit.  I  shall 
help  you  what  I  can  hereafter,  by  beg- 
ging in  my  prayers  the  strengthening 
and  establishing  grace  of  God,  for  you, 
to  bring  store  of  heavenly  comfort  into 
your  soul,  from  this  your  present  sor- 
row. 

"  Your  servant  in  Christ  Jesus, 

"J.  D. 

"  April  15,  1647." 


FRANCES 
COUNTESS  OF  CARBERY. 

As  Alice  Egerton,  the  last  wife  of 
Richard  Vaughan,  Earl  of  Carbery,  is 
always  remembered  for  her  connexion 
with  the  Masque  of  Comus,  so  is  his 
former  wife,  Frances  Altham,  for  the 
funeral  sermon  which  Jeremy  Taylor 
preached  upon  her  death. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  Sir  John 
Altham,  of  Orbey,  having  only  one  sis- 
ter to  share  his  inheritance,  and  brought 
a  large  fortune  to  her  husband,  with 
whom  she  lived  thirteen  years,  and  died 
in  October,  1650,  leaving  seven  children, 
of  whom  Althamia,  the  youngest,  was 
born  but  a  few  days  before  her  death. 

In  the  family  of  Lord  Carbery  and 
his  wife,  Jeremy  Taylor  found  a  refuge 


62 


during  part  of  the  rebellion,  whilst  re- 
siding in  the  same  parish  in  Carmarthen- 
shire, as  that  of  their  house  at  Golden 
Grove ;  when  the  churches  were  closed 
against  his  ministry,  he  delivered  in 
their  house  his  yearly  course  of  sermons. 
The  third  part  of  the  Great  Exemplar 
was,  in  the  first  edition,  dedicated  to 
Frances  Lady  Carbery ;  and  in  the  sec- 
ond, he  added  a  dedication  to  Alice 
Egerton,  who  then  filled  her  place  as  the 
wife  of  Lord  Carbery,  making  in  it 
affectionate  mention  of  her  predecessor, 
and  telling  her  that  her  chief  claim  on 
his  own  affection  and  prayers,  was  her 
being  i4in  the  affections  of  her  noblest 
lord,  successor  to  a  very  dear  and  most 
excellent  person  ;  designed  to  fill  those 
offices  of  piety  to  her  dear  pledges, 
which  the  haste  which  God  made  to  glo- 
rify and  secure  her,  would  not  permit 
her  to  finish." 

In  the  dedication  to  the  Hoi}'-  Dying, 
addressed  to  Lord  Carbery,  allusion  is 
made  to  the  anniversary  of  his  wife's 
death.  Jeremy  Taylor  preached  her 
funeral  sermon  at  the  house  of  Golden 
Grove  :  he  chose  for  his  text  the  follow- 
ing passage  : 

k'  For  we  must  needs  die,  and  are  as 
water  spilt  on  the  ground,  which  cannot 
be  gathered  up  again  ;  neither  doth  God 
respect  any  person  :  yet  doth  he  devise 
means,  that  His  banished  be  not  expelled 
from  Him!"  (2  Sam.  xiv.  14.)  After 
treating  fully  upon  the  subject  of  death, 
he  proceeds  : 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERY.  63 

li  I  have  now  done  with  my  text,  butt 
yet  am  to  make  you  another  sermon.  I 
have  told  you  the  necessity  and  the  state 
of  death,  it  may  be  too  largely  for  such 
a  sad  story  ;  I  shall  therefore  now,  with 
a  better  compendium,  teach  you  how  to 
live,  by  telling  you  a  plain  narrative  of 
a  life,  which,  if  you  imitate,  and  write 
after  the  copy,  it  will  make  that  death 
shall  not  be  an  evil,  but  a  thing  to  be  de- 
sired, and  to  be  reckoned  among  the 
purchases  and  advantages  of  your  for- 
tune. When  Martha  and  Mary  went  to 
weep  over  the  grave  of  their  brother, 
Christ  met  them  there,  and  preached  a 
funeral  sermon,  discoursing  of  the  resur- 
rection, and  applying  to  the  purposes  of 
faith,  and  confession  of  Christ,  and  glo- 
rification of  God.  We  have  no  other? 
we  can  have  no  better  precedent  to  fol- 
low :  and  now  that  we  are  come  to  weep 
over  the  grave  of  our  dear  sister,  this 
rare  personage,  we  eannot  choose  but 
have  many  virtues  to  learn,  many  to  im- 
itate, and  some  to  exercise. 

I  choose  not  to  declare  her  extraction 
and  genealogy ;  it  was  indeed  fair  and 
noble ;  but  having  the  blessing  to  be 
descended  from  worthy  and  honoured! 
ancestors,  and  herself  to  be  adopted  and 
engrafted  into  a  more  noble  family,  yet 
she  felt  such  outward  appendages  to  be 
none  of  hers,  because  not  of  her  choice  ; 
but  the  purchase  of  the  virtues  of  others,, 
which  although  they  did  engage  her  to 
do  noble  things^  yet  they  would  upbraid 


64  FRANCES 

all  degenerate  and  less  honourable  lives, 
than  were  those  which  began  and  in- 
creased the  honour  of  the  families.  She 
did  not  love  her  fortune  for  making  her 
noble  ;  but  thought  it  would  be  a  dis- 
honour to  her,  if  she  did  not  continue  a 
nobleness  and  excellency  of  virtue,  fit  to 
be  owned  by  persons  relating  to  such 
ancestors.  It  is  fit  for  us  all  to  honour 
the  nobleness  of  a  family  ;  but  it  is  also 
fit  for  them  that  are  noble  to  despise  it, 
and  to  establish  their  honour  upon  the 
foundation  of  doing  excellent  things,  and 
suffering  in  good  causes,  and  despising 
dishonourable  actions,  and  in  communi- 
cating good  things  to  others,  for  this  is 
the  rule  in  nature ;  those  creatures  are 
most  honourable  which  have  the  greatest 
power,  and  do  the  greatest  good :  and 
accordingly  myself  have  been  a  witness 
of  it,  how  this  excellent  lady  would,  by 
an  act  of  humility  and  Christian  abstrac- 
tion, strip  herself  of  all  that  fair  appen- 
dage and  exterior  honour,  which  decked 
her  person  and  her  fortune,  and  desired 
to  be  owned  by  nothing  but  what  was 
her  own,  that  she  might  only  be  esteemed 
honourable,  according  to  that  which  is 
the  honour  of  a  Christian,  and  a  wise 
person. 

She  had  a  strict  and  severe  education, 
and  it  was  one  of  God's  graces  and  fa- 
vours to  her  ;  for  being  the  heiress  of  a 
great  fortune,  and  living  amongst  the 
throng  of  persons,  in  the  sight  of  vani- 
ties  and  empty  temptations,  that  is,  in 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERY.  65 

that  part  of  the  kingdom  where  greatness 
is  too  often  expressed  in  great  follies  and 
great  vices,  God  had  provided  a  severe 
and  angry  education,  to  chastise  the  for- 
wardness of  a  young  spirit  and  a  fair 
fortune,  that  she  might  for  ever  be  so 
far  distant  from  a  vice,  that  she  might 
only  see  and  loathe  it,  but  never  taste  of 
it,  so  much  as  to  be  put  to  her  choice, 
whether  she  would  be  virtuous  or  no. 
God  intending  to  secure  this  soul  to  him- 
self, would  not  suffer  the  follies  of  the 
world  to  seize  upon  her,  by  way  of  too 
near  a  trial,  or  busy  temptation. 

She  was  married  young  ;  and  besides, 
her  business  of  religion  seemed  to  be 
ordained  in  the  providence  of  God,  to 
bring  to  this  honourable  family  a  part  of 
a  fair  fortune,  and  to  leave  behind  her  a 
fairer  issue,  worth  ten  thousand  times 
her  portion ;  and  as  if  this  had  been  all 
the  public  business  of  her  life,  when  she 
had  so  far  served  God's  ends,  God  in 
mercy  would  also  serve  hers,  and  take 
her  to  an  early  blessedness. 

In  passing  through  which  line  of 
Providence,  she  had  the  art  to  secure 
her  eternal  interest,  by  turning  her  con- 
dition into  duty,  and  expressing  her 
duty  in  the  greatest  eminency  of  a  vir- 
tuous, prudent,  and  rare  affection,  that 
hath  been  her  own  in  any  example.  I 
will  not  give  her  so  low  a  testimony,  as 
to  say  only  that  she  was  chaste  ;  she  was 
a  person  of  that  severity,  modesty,  and 
close  religion  as  to  that  particular,  that 


66  FRANCES 

she  was  not  capable  of  uncivil  tempta- 
tion :  and  you  might  as  well  have  sus- 
pected the  sun  to  smell  of  the  poppy 
that  he  looks  on,  as  that  she  could  have 
been  a  person  apt  to  be  sullied  by  the 
breath  of  a  foul  question. 

But  that  which  I  shall  note  in  her,  is 
that  which  I  would  have  exemplar  to  all 
ladies,  and  to  all  women  :  she  had  a  love 
so  great  for  her  lord,  so  entirely  given 
up  to  a  dear  affection,  that  she  thought 
the  same  things,  and  loved  the  same^ 
loves,  and  hated  according  to  the  same 
enmities,  and  breathed  in  his  soul,  and 
lived  in  his  presence,  and  languished  in 
his  absence  ;  and  all  that  she  was  or  did, 
was  only  for,  and  to  her  dearest  lord. 
And  although  this  was  a  great  enamel  to 
the  beauty  of  her  soul,  yet  it  might  in 
some  degree  be  also  a  reward  to  the  vir- 
tue of  her  lord  :  for  she  would  often 
discourse  it  to  them  that  conversed  with 
ber,  that  he  would  improve  that  interest 
which  he  had  in  her  affections,  to  the 
advantages  of  God  and  of  religion  ;  and 
she  would  delight  to  say,  that  he  called 
her  to  her  devotions,  he  encouraged  her 
good  inclinations,  he  directed  her  piety, 
he  invited  her  with  good  books  ;  and 
then  she  loved  religion,  which  she  saw 
was  not  only  pleasing  to  God,  and  an 
act  or  state  of  duty,  but  pleasing  to  her 
lord,  and  an  act  also  of  affection  and 
conjugal  obedience  ;  and  what  at  first 
she  loved  the  more  forwardly  for  his 
sake,  in  the  using  of  religion,  left  such 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERT.  67 

relishes  upon  her  spirit,  that  she  found 
in  it  amability  enough  to  make  her  love 
it  for  its  own.  So  God  usually  brings 
us  to  Him  by  instruments  and  affections, 
and  then  incorporates  us  into  his  inherit- 
ance, by  the  more  immediate  relishes  of 
heaven,  and  the  secret-  things  of  the 
Spirit.  He  only  was  (under  God)  the 
light  of  her  eyes,  and  the  cordial  of  her 
spirits,  and  the  guide  Of  her  actions,  and 
the  measure  of  her  affections,  till  her  af- 
fections swelled  up  into  a  religion,  and 
then  it  could  go  no  higher,  but  was  con- 
federate with  those  other  duties  which 
made  her  dear  to  God  :  which  rare  com- 
bination of  duty  and  religion,  I  choose 
to  express  in  the  words  of  Solomon : 
"  She  forsook  not  the  guide  of  her 
youth,  nor  broke  the  covenant  of  her 
God." 

As  she  was  a  rare  wife,  so  she  was  an 
excellent  mother  :  for  in  so  tender  a  con- 
stitution of  spirit  as  hers  was,  and  in  so 
great  a  kindness  towards  her  children, 
that  hath  seldom  been  seen  a  stricter  and 
more  curious  care  of  their  persons,  their 
deportment,  their  nature,  their  disposi- 
tion, their  learning,  and  their  customs ; 
she  had  not  very  much  of  the  forms  and 
outsides  of  godliness,  but  she  was  largely 
careful  for  the  power  of  it  ;  for  the 
moral,  essential,  and  useful  parts,  such 
as  would  make  her  be,  not  seem  to  be, 
religious. 

She  was  a  very  constant  person  at  her 
prayers,   and  spent  all  her  time  which 


68 


nature  did  permit  to  her  choice,  in  her 
devotions,  and  reading,  and  meditating, 
and  the  necessary  offices  of  household 
government ;  every  one  of  which  is  an 
action  of  religion,  some  by  nature,  some 
by  adoption.  To  these  also,  God  gave 
her  a  very  great  love  to  hear  the  word 
of  God  preached ;  in  which,  because  I 
had  sometimes  the  honour  to  minister  to 
her,  I  can  give  this  certain  testimony, 
that  she  was  a  diligent,  watchful,  and 
attentive  hearer ;  and  to  this,  she  had  so 
excellent  a  judgment,  that  if  ever  I  saw 
a  woman  whose  judgment  was  to  be  re- 
vered, it  was  hers  alone  ;  and  I  have 
sometimes  thought  that  the  eminency  of 
her  discerning  faculties  did  reward  a 
pious  discourse,  and  placed  it  in  the  re- 
gions of  honour  and  usefulness,  and 
gathered  it  up  from  the  ground,  where 
commonly  such  homilies  are  spilt,  or 
scattered  in  neglect  and  inconsideration. 
But  her  appetite  was  not  soon  satisfied 
with  what  was  useful  to  her  soul :  she 
was  also  a  constant  reader  of  sermons, 
and  seldom  missed  to  read  one  every 
day ;  and  that  she  might  be  full  of  in- 
struction and  holy  principles,  she  had 
lately  designed  to  have  a  large  book,  in 
which  she  purposed  to  have  a  stock  of 
religion  transcribed,  in  such  assistances 
as  she  would  choose,  that  she  might  be 
readily  furnished  and  instructed  to  every 
good  work.  But  God  prevented  that, 
and  hath  filled  her  desires,  not  out  of 
cisterns  and  little  aqueducts,  but  hath 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERY.  69 

carried  her  to  the  fountains :  '  she  drinks 
of  the  pleasures  of  the  river,'  and  is  full 
of  God. 

She  always  lived  a  life  of  much  inno- 
cence, free  from  the  violences  of  great 
sins ;  her  person,  her  breeding,  her  mod- 
esty, her  honour,  her  religion,  her  early 
marriage,  the  guide  of  her  soul,  and  the 
guide  of  her  youth,  were  as  so  many 
fountains  of  restraining  grace  to  her,  to 
keep  her  from  the  dishonours  of  a  crime. 
•*  It  is  good  to  bear  the  yoke  of  the  Lord 
from  our  youth  ;'  and  though  she  did  so, 
being  guarded  by  a  mighty  providence 
and  a  great  favour  and  grace  of  God, 
from  staining  her  fair  soul  with  the  spots 
of  hell,  yet  she  had  strange  fears  and 
early  cares  upon  her  ;  but  these  were 
and  if  ever  kindness  and  care  did  con- 
test, and  make  parties  in  her,  yet  her 
care  and  her  severity  was  ever  victo- 
rious ;  and  she  knew  not  how  to  do  an 
ill  turn  to  their  severer  part,  by  her  more 
tender  and  forward  kindness.  And  as 
her  custom  was,  she  turned  this  also  into 
love  to  her  lord  :  for  she  was  not  only 
diligent  to  have  them  bred  nobly  and 
religiously,  but  also  was  careful  and  so- 
licitous that  they  should  be  taught  to 
observe  all  the  circumstances  and  incli- 
nations, the  desires  and  wishes  of  their 
father ;  as  thinking  that  virtue  to  have 
no  good  circumstances,  which  was  not 
dressed  by  his  copy,  and  ruled  by  his 
lines,  and  his  affections ;  and  her  pru- 
rience in  the  managing  her  children,  was 


70  FRANCES 

so  singular  and  rare,  that  whenever  you 
mean  to  bless  this  family,  and  pray  a 
hearty  and  a  profitable  prayer  for  it, 
beg  of  God  that  the  children  may  have 
those  excellent  things  which  she  de- 
signed to  them,  and  provided  for  them 
in  her  heart  and  wishes ;  that  they  may 
live  by  her  purposes,  and  may  grow 
thither,  whither  she  would  fain  have 
brought  them.  All  these  were  great 
parts  of  an  excellent  religion,  as  they 
concerned  her  greatest  temporal  rela- 
tions. 

But  if  we  examine  how  she  demeaned 
herself  towards  God,  there  also  you  will 
find  her,  not  of  a  common,  but  of  an 
exemplar  piety  :  she  was  a  great  reader 
of  Scripture,  confining  herself  to  great 
portions  every  day,  which  she  read,  not 
to  the  purposes  of  vanity  and  imperti- 
nent curiosities,  not  to  seem  knowing, 
or  to  become  talking,  not  to  expound  and 
rule ;  but  to  teach  her  all  her  duty,  to 
instruct  her  in  the  knowledge  and  love 
of  God  to  her  neighbours  ;  to  make  her 
more  humble,  and  to  teach  her  to  despise 
the  world  and  all  its  gilded  vanities,  and 
that  she  might  entertain  passions  wholly 
in  design  and  order  to  heaven.  I  have 
seen  a  female  religion,  that  wholly  dwelt 
upon  the  face  and  tongue  ;  that  like  a 
wanton  and  undressed  tree,  spends  all 
its  juice  in  suckers  and  irregular  branch- 
es, in  leaves  and  gum,  and  after  all  such 
goodly  outsides,  you  should  never  eat 
an  apple,  or  be  delighted  with  the  beau- 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERY.  71 

ties  or  the  perfumes  of  a  hopeful  blos- 
som. But  the  religion  of  this  excellent 
lady  was  of  another  constitution  ;  it  took 
root  downward  in  humility,  and  brought 
forth  fruit  upward,  in  the  substantial 
graces  of  a  Christian,  in  charity  and  jus- 
tice, in  chastity  and  modesty,  in  fair 
friendships  and  sweetness  of  society  : 
not  only  for  herself,  but  in  order  to 
others,  to  her  nearest  relatives  ;  for  she 
was  so  great  a  lover  of  this  honourable 
family,  of  which  now  she  was  a  mother, 
that  she  desired  to  become  a  channel  of 
great  blessings  to  it  unto  future  ages, 
and  was  extremely  jealous  lest  any  thing 
should  be  done,  or  lest  any  thing  had 
been  done,  though  an  age  or  two  since, 
which  should  entail  a  curse  upon  the  in- 
nocent posterity  ;  and  therefore,  (al- 
though I  do  not  know  that  ever  she  was 
tempted  with  an  offer  of  the  crime,)  yet 
she  did  infinitely  remove  all  sacrilege 
from  her  thoughts,  and  delighted  to  see 
her  estate  of  a  clear  and  disentangled 
interest :  she  would  have  no  mingled 
rights  with  it ;  she  would  not  receive 
any  thing  from  the  Church,  but  religion 
and  a  blessing  ;  and  she  never  thought  a 
curse  and  a  sin  far  enough  off,  but  would 
desire  it  to  be  infinitely  distant ;  and 
that  as  to  this  family  God  had  given 
much  honour,  and  a  wise  head  to  govern 
it,  so  He  would  also  for  ever  give  many 
more  blessings  :  and  because  she  knew 
the  sins  of  parents  descend  upon  chil- 
dren, she  endeavoured,  by  justice  and 


72  FRANCES 

religion,  by  charity  and  honour,  to  se- 
cure that  her  channel  should  convey 
nothing  but  health,  and  a  fair  example, 
and  a  blessing. 

And,  though  her  accounts  with  God 
were  made  up  of  nothing  but  small  par- 
cels, little  passions,  and  angry  words, 
and  trifling  discontents,  which  are  the 
allays  of  the  piety  of  the  most  holy  per- 
sons, yet  she  was  early  at  her  repent- 
ance ;  and  toward  the  latter  end  of  her 
days,  grew  so  fast  in  religion,  as  if  she 
had  had  a  revelation  of  her  approaching 
end,  and  therefore,  that  she  must  go  a 
great  way  in  a  little  time  :  her  discours- 
es more  full  of  religion,  her  prayers 
more  frequent,  her  charity  increasing, 
her  forgiveness  more  forward,  her  friend- 
ships more  communicative,  her  passion 
more  under  discipline  :  and  so  she  trim- 
med her  lamp,  not  thinking  her  night 
was  so  near,  but  that  it  might  shine  also 
in  the  day-time,  in  the  temple,  and  be- 
fore the  altar  of  incense. 

But  in  this  course  of  hers  there  were 
some  circumstances,  and  some  appen- 
dages of  substance,  which  were  highly 
remarkable.  In  all  her  religion,  and  in 
all  her  actions  of  relation  towards  God, 
she  had  a  strange  evenness  and  untroub- 
led passage,  sliding  toward  her  ocean  of 
God  and  of  infinity,  with  a  certain  and 
silent  motion.  So  have  I  seen  a  river, 
deep  and  smooth,  passing,  with  a  still 
foot  and  a  sober  face,  and  paying  to  the 
great  exchequer  of  the  sea,  the  prince 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERY.  73 

of  all  the  watery  bodies,  a  tribute  large 
and  full ;  and  hard  by  it,  a  little  brook 
skipping  and  making  a  noise  upon  its 
unequal  and  neighbour  bottom,  and  after 
all  its  talking  and  bragging  motion,  it 
paid  to  its  common  audit  no  more  than 
the  revenues  of  a  little  cloud,  or  a  con- 
temptible vessel :  so  have  I  sometimes 
compared  the  issues  of  her  religion  to 
the  solemnities  and  famed  outsides  of 
another's  piety.  It  dwelt  upon  her 
spirit,  and  was  incorporated  with  the 
periodical  work  of  every  day  :  she  did 
not  believe  that  religion  was  intended  to 
minister  to  fame  and  reputation,  but  to 
pardon  of  sins,  to  the  pleasure  of  God, 
and  the  salvation  of  souls.  For  religion 
is  like  the  breath  of  heaven  :  if  it  goes 
abroad  into  the  open  air,  it  scatters  and 
dissolves  like  camphire  ;  but  if  it  enters 
into  a  secret  hollowness,  into  a  close 
conveyance,  it  is  strong  and  mighty,  and 
comes  forth  with  vigour  and  effect  at 
the  other  end,  at  the  other  side  of  this 
life,  in  the  days  of  death  and  judgment. 
The  other  appendage  of  her  religion, 
which  was  also  a  great  ornament  to  all 
the  parts  of  her  life,  was  a  rare  modesty 
and  humility  of  spirit,  a  confident  despi- 
sing and  undervaluing  of  herself.  For 
though  she  had  the  greatest  judgment, 
and  the  greatest  experience  of  things 
and  persons,  that  I  ever  yet  knew  in  a 
person  of  her  youth,  and  sex,  and  cir- 
cumstances ;  yet,  as  if  she  knew  nothing 
of  it,  she  had  the  meanest  opinion  of 
c 


74  FRANCES 

herself;  and  like  a  fair  taper,  when  she 
shined  to  all  the  room,  yet  round  about 
her  own  station,  she  had  cast  a  shadow 
and  a  cloud,  and  she  shined  to  every- 
body but  herself.  But  the  perfectness 
of  her  prudence  and  excellent  parts 
could  not  be  hid  ;  and  all  her  humility, 
and  acts  of  concealment,  made  the  vir- 
tues more  amiable  and  illustrious.  For 
as  pride  sullies  the  beauty  of  the  fairest 
virtues,  and  makes  our  understanding 
but  like  the  craft  and  learning  of  a  devil ; 
so  humility  is  the  greatest  emineney  and 
art  of  publication  in  the  whole  world  ; 
and  she,  in  all  her  arts  of  secrecy,  and 
hiding  her  worthy  things,  was  but  •  like 
one  that  hideth  the  wind,  and  covers  the 
ointment  of  her  right  hand.' 

I  know  not  by  what  instrument  it 
happened  ;  but  when  death  drew  near, 
before  it  made  any  show  upon  her  body, 
or  revealed  itself  by  a  natural  significa- 
tion, it  was  conveyed  to  her  spirit :  she 
had  a  strange  secret  persuasion  that  the 
bringing  this  child  should  be  her  last 
scene  of  life  :  and  we  have  known  that 
the  soul,  when  she  is  about  to  disrobe 
herself  of  her  upper  garment,  sometimes 
speaks  rarely  :  sometimes  it  is  prophet- 
ical ;  sometimes  God,  by  a  superinduced 
persuasion  wrought  by  instruments,  or 
accidents  of  his  own,  serves  the  ends  of 
His  own  Providence,  and  the  salvation 
of  the  soul :  but  so  it  was,  that  the 
thought  of  death  dwelt  long  with  her, 
and  grew  from  the  first  stages  of  fancy 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERY.  75 

and  fear,  to  a  consent, — from  thence  to  a 
strange  credulity,  and  expectation  of  it ; 
and  without  the  violence  of  sickness  she 
died,  as  if  she  had  done  it  voluntarily, 
and  by  design,  and  for  fear  her  expecta- 
tion should  have  been  deceived  ;  or  that 
she  should  seem  to  have  had  an  unrea- 
sonable fear  or  apprehension  ;  or  rather, 
as  one  said  of  Cato,  she  died  as  if  she 
had  been  glad  of  the  opportunity. 

And  in  this  I  cannot  but  adore  the 
Providence,  and  admire  the  wisdom  and 
infinite  mercies  of  God  ;  for  having  a 
tender  and  soft,  a  delicate  and  fine  con- 
stitution and  breeding,  she  was  tender 
to  pain,  and  apprehensive  of  it  as  a 
child's  shoulder  is  of  a  load  and  burden  : 
and  in  her  often  discourses  of  death, 
which  she  would  renew  willingly  and 
frequently,  she  would  tell,  that  "  she 
feared  not  death,  but  she  feared  the 
sharp  pains  of  death."  The  being  dead, 
and  being  freed  from  the  troubles  and 
dangers  of  this  world,  she  hoped  would 
be  for  her  advantage,  and  therefore,  that 
was  no  part  of  her  fear  ;  but  she,  be- 
lieving the  pangs  of  death  were  great, 
and  the  use  and  aids  of  reason  little,  had 
reason  to  fear  lest  they  should  do  vio- 
lence to  her  spirit,  and  the  decency  of 
her  resolution.  But  God,  that  knew  her 
fears  and  her  jealousy  concerning  herself, 
fitted  her  with  a  death  so  easy,  so  harm- 
less, so  painless,  that  it  did  not  put  her 
patience  to  a  severe  trial.  It  was  not, 
to  all  appearance,  of  so  much  trouble  as 
c  2 


76  FRANCES 

two  fits  of  a  common  ague,  so  careful 
was  God  to  demonstrate  to  all  that  stood 
in  that  sad  attendance,  that  this  soul 
was  dear  to  Him, — and  that  since  she 
had  done  so  much  of  her  duty  towards 
it,  He  that  began,  would  also  finish  her 
redemption,  by  an  act  of  a  rare  Provi- 
dence, and  a  singular  mercy.  Blessed 
be  that  goodness  of  God,  who  does  so 
careful  actions  of  mercy  for  the  ease  and 
security  of  His  servants  !  But  this  one 
instance  was  a  great  demonstration,  that 
the  apprehension  of  death  is  worse  than 
the  pains  of  death  ;  and  that  God  loves 
to  reprove  the  unreasonableness  of  our 
fears,  by  the  mightiness  and  by  the  arts 
of  His  mercy. 

She  had  in  her  sickness,  if  I  may  so 
call  it, — or  rather  in  the  solemnities  and 
graver  preparations  towards  death, — 
some  curious  and  well-becoming  fears 
concerning  the  final  state  of  her  soul ; 
but  from  thence  she  passed  into  a  kind  of 
trance  ;  and  as  soon  as  she  came  forth  of 
it,  as  if  it  had  been  a  vision,  or  that  she 
had  conversed  with  an  angel,  and  from 
his  hand  had  received  a  label  or  scroll  of 
the  book  of  life,  and  there  seen  her  name 
enrolled,  she  cried  out  aloud,  "  Glory  be 
to  God  on  high  !  now  I  am  sure  I  shall 
be  saved."  Concerning  which  manner 
of  discoursing,  we  are  wholly  ignorant 
what  judgment  can  be  made  ;  but,  cer- 
tainly, there  are  strange  things  in  the 
other  world,  and  so  there  are  in  all  the 
immediate  preparations  to  it ;  and  a  little 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERT.  77 

glimpse  of  heaven,  a  minute's  conversing 
with  an  angel,  any  ray  of  God,  any  com- 
munication extraordinary  from  the  spirit 
of  comfort,  which  God  gives  to  His  ser- 
vants in  strange  and  unknown  manners, 
are  infinitely  far  from  illusions,  and  they 
shall  then  be  understood  by  us  when  we 
feel  them,  and  when  our  new  and  strange 
needs  shall  be  refreshed  by  such  unusual 
visitations. 

But  I  must  be  forced  to  use  summaries 
and  acts  of  abbreviature  in  the  enumera- 
ting these  things,  in  which  this  rare  per- 
sonage was  dear  to  God,  and  to  all  her 
relatives. 

If  we  consider  her  person,  she  was  in 
the  flower  of  her  age  ;  of  a  temperate, 
plain  and  natural  diet,  without  curiosity 
or  an  intemperate  palate  ;  she  spent  less 
time  in  dressing  than  many  servants ; 
her  recreations  were  little  and  seldom, 
her  prayers  often,  her  reading  much  ; 
she  was  of  a  most  noble  and  charitable 
soul,  a  great  lover  of  honourable  actions, 
and  as  great  a  despiser  of  base  things  ; 
hugely  loving  to  oblige  others,  and  very 
unwilling  to  be  in  arrear  to  any  upon 
the  stock  of  courtesies  and  liberality  :  so 
free  in  all  acts  of  favour,  that  she  would 
not  stay  to  hear  herself  thanked,  as  be- 
ing unwilling  that  what  good  went  from 
her  to  a  needful,  or  an  obliged  person, 
should  ever  return  to  her  again.  She 
was  an  excellent  friend,  and  hugely  dear 
to  very  many,  especially  to  the  best  and 
most  discerning  persons  ;  to  all  that  con- 
c  3 


78  FRANCES 

versed  with  her,  and  could  understand 
her  great  worth  and  sweetness.  She 
was  of  an  honourable,  a  nice  and  tender 
reputation  ;  and  of  the  pleasures  of  this 
world,  which  lay  before  her  in  heaps, 
she  took  a  very  small  and  inconsiderable 
share,  as  not  loving  to  glut  herself  with 
vanity,  or  take  her  portion  of  good  things 
here  below.  If  we  look  on  her  as  a  wife, 
she  was  chaste  and  loving,  fruitful  and 
discreet,  humble  and  pleasant,  witty  and 
compliant,  rich  and  fair  :  and  wanted  no- 
thing to  the  making  her  a  principal  and 
precedent  to  the  best  wives  of  the  world, 
but  a  long  life,  and  a  full  age. 

If  we  remember  her  as  a  mother,  she 
was  kind  and  severe,  careful  and  pru- 
dent, very  tender,  and  not  at  all  fond  ;  a 
greater  lover  of  her  children's  souls  than 
of  their  bodies,  and  one  that  would  value 
them  more  by  the  strict  rules  of  honour 
and  proper  worth,  than  by  their  relation 
to  herself. 

Her  servants  found  her  prudent  and 
fit  to  govern,  and  yet  open-handed  and 
apt  to  reward ;  a  just  exacter  of  their 
duty,  and  a  great  rewarder  of  their  dili- 
gence. 

She  was  in  her  house  a  comfort  to  her 
dearest  lord,  a  guide  to  her  children,  a 
rule  to  her  servants,  an  example  to  all. 

But  as  she  related  to  God  in  the  of- 
fices of  religion,  she  was  even  and  con- 
stant, silent  and  devout,  prudent  and 
material ;  she  loved  what  she  now  en- 
joys, and  she  feared  what  she  never  felt, 


COUNTESS    OF    CARBERY.  79 

and  God  did  for  her  what  she  never  did 
•expect :  her  fears  went  beyond  all  her 
evil ;  and  yet  the  good  which  she  hath 
received,  was,  and  is,  and  ever  shall  be. 
beyond  all  her  hopes. 

She  lived  as  we  all  should  live,  and 
she  died  as  I  fain  would  die  :  I  pray 
God  that  I  may  feel  those  mercies  on 
my  death-bed  that  she  felt,  and  that  I 
may  feel  the  same  effect  of  my  repent- 
ance, which  she  feels  of  the  many  de- 
grees of  her  innocence.  Such  was  her 
death,  that  she  did  not  die  too  soon ;  and 
lier  life  was  so  useful  and  excellent,  that 
she  could  not  have  lived  too  long.  And 
as  now  in  the  grave,  it  shall  not  be  in- 
quired concerning  her,  how  long  she 
lived,  but  how  well ;  so  to  us  who  live 
after  her,  to  suffer  a  larger  calamity,  it 
may  be  some  ease  to  our  sorrows,  and 
some  guide  to  our  lives,  and  some 
security  to  our  conditions,  to  consider 
that  God  hath  brought  the  piety  of 
a  young  lady  to  the  early  rewards  of  a 
never-ceasing,  and  never-dying  eternity 
of  glory.  And  we  also,  if  we  live  as 
she  did,  shall  partake  of  the  same 
glories  ;  not  only  having  the  honour  of  a 
good  name,  and  a  dear  and  honoured 
memory,  but  the  glories  of  these  glories, 
the  end  of  all  excellent  labours,  and  all 
prudent  counsels,  and  all  holy  religion, 
even  the  salvation  of  our  souls,  in  that 
day'  when  all  the  saints,  and  among 
them  this  excellent  woman,  shall  be 
shown  to  the  world  to  have  done  moret 
c  4 


80  DOROTHY 

and  more  excellent  things  than  we  can 
know  of,  or  can  describe.  "  Death  con- 
secrates and  makes  sacred  that  person, 
whose  excellency  was  such,  that  they  that 
are  not  displeased  at  the  death,  cannot 
dispraise  the  life  ;  but  they  that  mourn 
sadly,  think  they  can  never  commend 
sufficiently." 


DOROTHY 
COUNTESS  OF  SUNDERLAND. 

Lady  Dorothy  Sidney  was  the  eldest 
of  the  eight  daughters  of  Robert,  second 
Earl  of  Leicester  of  his  family,  and  of 
Lady  Dorothy  Percy  his  wife,  and  was 
born  in  the  year  1620.  Her  parents 
lived  together  for  nearly  half  a  century 
in  the  most  entire  union  ;  Lady  Leicester 
wrote  thus  to  her  husband,  eighteen 
years  after  their  marriage  :  "  Mr.  Sela- 
dine  comes  in  with  your  letter,  whom  I 
am  engaged  to  entertain  a  little  :  be- 
sides, it  is  supper-time,  or  else  I  should 
bestow  one  side  of  this  paper  in  making 
love  to  you  ;  and  since  I  may  with  mo- 
desty express  it,  I  will  say,  that  if  it  be 
love  to  think  on  you,  sleeping  and 
waking ;  to  discourse  of  nothing  with 
pleasure  but  what  concerns  you  ;  to  wish 
myself  every  hour  with  you  ;  and  to 
pray  for  you  with  as  much  devotion  as 
for  my  own  soul ;  then  certainly  it  may 


COUNTESS    OF    SUNDERLAND.         81 

be  said  that  I  am  in  love,"  This  was 
the  conclusion  of  a  letter,  addressed  to 
him  while  ambassador  at  Paris,  after 
treating  at  great  length,  with  acuteness 
and  judgment,  of  some  matters  of  state 
at  home,  in  which  his  interests  were 
concerned. 

In  the  many  little  inquiries  and  com- 
munications respecting  their  large  family, 
which  are  scattered  through  the  "  Sid- 
ney papers,"  the  name  of  their  eldest 
daughter  is  often  mentioned  with  espe- 
cial tenderness  ;  and  when  her  childhood 
had  passed,  the  same  degree  of  anxiety 
is  shown  in  the  choice  of  a  husband  for  her. 

Before  she  was  sixteen,  she  had  many 
suitors,  and  even  as  early  as  the  spring 
of  1635,  Lord  Russell,  heir  to  the  house 
of  Bedford,  had  been  spoken  of  as  likely 
to  marry  her.  In  the  course  of  the 
three  following  years,  several  other  pro- 
jects of  marriage  were  entertained  for 
her,  and  carefully  considered  by  her  pa- 
rents, Lady  Leicester  writing  frequently 
on  the  subject  to  her  husband,  during 
his  embassy  at  Paris.  In  the  mean  time, 
tier  beauty  was  celebrated  by  the  poet 
Waller,  under  the  name  of  Sacharissa; 
lie  described  her  as  she  was  seen  at  Pens- 
hurst,  among  its  groves,  and  under  its 
beeches,  with  her  friend  Lady  Sophia 
Murray,  to  whom  he  gave  the  name  of 
Amoret ;  but  his  complaints  of  her  as  a 
haughty  beauty  have  no  agreement  with 
any  thing  that  appears  in  her  character, 
aaor  with  the  expression  of  her  fair  and 
c  5 


82  DOROTHY 

open  countenance  in  her  portrait.  It 
appears  that  he  offered  himself  as  her 
husband,  and  was  rejected  by  her  family, 
who  in  spite  of  his  large  estate,  good 
looks  and  accomplishments,  regarded 
him  as  no  equal  match  for  their  daughter. 

A  few  of  her  letters  are  preserved, 
chiefly  before  her  marriage,  and  address- 
ed to  her  father  to  express  her  duty  and 
affection  towards  him.  The  following 
is  a  specimen  : 
"  My  Lord, 

Had  not  my  intentions  been  diverted 
by  the  trouble  of  a  distemper  which  a 
great  cold  produced,  and  since  that,  by 
the  expectation  of  Rochelle's  coming 
hither,  I  would  not  have  been  thus  slow 
in  presenting  your  lordship  with  my 
most  humble  thanks,  for  the  many  fine 
things  you  have  bestowed  on  me.  And, 
though  they  will  be  my  greatest  orna- 
ments, which  is  of  much  consideration 
by  persons  no  wiser  than  I  am,  they 
could  not  give  me  any  contentment,  but 
as  I  understand  they  are  expressions  of 
your  lordship's  favour,  a  blessing  that 
above  all  others  in  this  world,  I  do  with 
much  passion  desire  ;  and  my  ambition 
is,  that  whatsoever  your  lordship  doth 
propound  to  be  in  the  perfectest  good 
child  upon  the  earth,  you  may  find  ac- 
complished in  me,  that  will  ever  be  your 
lordship's  most  affectionate,  most  hum- 
ble, and  exactly  obedient, 

D.  Sidney." 

In  July,  1639,  when  she  had  reached 


COUJVTESS    OF    SUNDERLAND.  83 

her  nineteenth  year,  she  was  married  at 
Penshurst,  to  Henry,  third  Lord  Spen- 
cer, who  was  of  the  same  age  with  her- 
self, and  a  youth  of  such  virtue  and 
promise,  that  her  parents'  most  anxious 
wishes  could  not  have  chosen  a  better 
protector  for  her.  He  had  been  educa- 
ted at  Magdalen  College,  Oxford,  and 
on  his  father's  death  became  master  of  a 
large  estate.  His  character  was  thus 
described  after  his  death,  by  Lloyd,  in 
his  memoirs  of  the  loyalists. 

"  A  good  patriot  upon  all  other  occa- 
sions," (but  that  of  the  rebellion,)  "as 
one  of  them  at  Westminster  observed, 
promoting  the  trade,  manufactures,  and 
privileges  of  this  country  ;  and  now 
standing  by  his  majesty,  as  he  evidently 
saw  him  stand  for  his  kingdom  ;  saying, 
by  a  foresight  and  prospect  that  he  had 
of  things  suitable  to  the  eminence  of  his 
place,  that  one  seven  years  would  show 
that  the  king  was  the  true  common- 
wealth's man  :  a  true  nobleman,  that 
was  virtuous  because  it  became  him,  as 
well  as  because  it  was  enjoined  him  ; 
being  above  all  vice,  as  well  as  without 
it ;  looking  upon  it  as  his  shame  and  dis- 
honour, as  well  as  sin  and  offence  ;  a 
good  neighbour ;  the  country  about  him, 
when  he  had  occasion  to  make  use  of  it, 
being  his  friends  that  loved  him,  rather 
than  slaves  that  feared  him  ;  a  discreet 
landlord,  finding  ways  to  improve  his 
land,  rather  than  rack  his  tenants  ;  a 
noble  housekeeper,  to  whom  that  inge- 
c  6 


84  DOROTHY 

unity  that  he  was  master  of  himself  was 
welcome  in  others  ;  an  honest  patron, 
seldom  furnishing  a  Church  with  an  in- 
cumbent, till  he  had  consulted  the  col- 
lege he  had  been  of,  and  the  Bishops  he 
lived  under  ;  an  exemplary  master  of  a 
family,  observing  exactly  the  excellent 
rules  he  so  strictly  enjoined  ;  consecra- 
ting his  house  as  a  temple,  where  he  or- 
dered his  followers  to  wrestle  with  God 
in  prayer,  while  he  wrestled  with  the 
enemy  in  fight." 

The  young  married  pair  joined  Lord 
Leicester  at  Paris,  and  staid  there  till 
October,  1641,  when  his  mission  ended, 
and  the  family  returned  to  England,  and 
Lord  Spencer,  a  few  days  after,  took 
his  seat  in  the  house  of  Peers.  Young 
as  he  was,  having  only  just  attained  his 
majority,  his  eminent  merit  was  already 
observed,  and  the  two  great  parties  then 
contending,  each  endeavoured  to  engage 
him.  He  at  first  inclined  to  the  popular 
side,  always  upholding  it  with  modera- 
tion and  candour,  but  he  found  his  at- 
tempts at  conciliation  unavailing,  when 
he  advised  those  who  complained  of 
their  sovereign,  to  lure  him  home  by 
loving  behaviour. 

Fuller  relates,  that  on  a  solemn  fast, 
when  the  members  of  the-  house  of  lords 
were  going  to  church,  the  temporal 
peers  for  the  first  time  took  the  prece- 
dency over  the  bishops,  who  quickly 
submitted  to  follow  them,  when  the 
young  Lord  Spencer  said,  "  Is  this  a 


COUNTESS    OF   SUNDERLAND.  85 

day  of  humiliation,  wherein  we  show  so 
much  pride,  in  taking  place  of  those  to 
whom  our  ancestors  ever  allowed  it  ?" 

At  length  he  took  leave  of  the  parlia- 
ment with  a  solemn  admonition,  and 
having  determined  on  taking  arms  for  the 
king,  he  made  a  disposition  of  his  estate, 
before  he  set  out  for  his  seat  at  Althorp 
with  his  wife  and  children.  In  June, 
1642,  he  committed  his  estates  to  the 
care  of  several  of  his  own  and  his  wife's 
relations,  for  the  use  of  his  wife  and 
children,  and  subscribed  the  document  in 
presence  of  Algernon  Sidney,  his  wife's 
brother,  and  of  Dr.  Henry  Hammond, 
the  rector  of  Penshurst. 

When  the  royal  standard  was  set  up 
at  Nottingham  on  August  22d,  he  was 
among  those  who  assembled  to  support 
it,  and  after  that  time  he  never  returned 
to  the  enjoyments  of  his  home. 

He  was  much  vexed  by  the  selfish  in- 
terests and  pretensions  which  embarras- 
sed the  king's  cause,  of  which  he  com- 
plained in  writing  to  his  wife,  but  his 
letters  to  her  show  the  spirit  of  a  young 
soldier,  mixed  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
young  husband  and  father. 
"  My  dearest  heart, 

Just  as  I  was  going  out  of  the  trenches 
on  Wednesday,  I  received  your  letter  of 
the  20th  of  this  instant,  which  gave  me 
so  much  satisfaction,  that  it  put  all  the 
inconveniences  of  this  siege  out  of  my 
thoughts.  At  that  instant,  if  I  had  fol- 
lowed my  own  inclinations,  I  had  re- 
c  7 


86  DOROTHY 

turned  an  answer  to  yours,  writing  to 
you  and  hearing  from  you  being  the 
most  pleasant  entertainment  I  am  capa- 
ble of  receiving  in  any  place,  but  espe- 
cially here,  but  when  I  am  in  the 
trenches,  (which  place  is  seldom  without 
my  company,)  I  am  more  solitary  than 
ever  I  was  in  my  life  ;  this  country  be- 
ing very  full  of  private  cottages,  in  one 
of  which  I  am  quartered,  where  my 
Lord  Falkland  did  me  the  honour  to 
sup Many  of  the  soldiers  are  confi- 
dent that  we  shall  have  the  town  within 
this  four  days,  which  I  extremely  long 
for  ;  not  that  I  am  weary  of  this  siege, 
for  really,  though  we  surfer  many  incon- 
veniences, yet  I  am  not  ill  pleased  with 
this  variety,  so  directly  opposite  as  the 
being  in  the  trenches,  with  so  much 
good  company,  together  with  the  noise 
and  tintamarre  of  guns  and  drums,  with 
the  horrid  spectacles,  and  hideous  cries 
of  dead  and  hurt  men  ;  is  to  the  solitari- 
ness of  my  quarter,  together  with  all  the 
marks  of  peace,  which  often  brings  into 
my  thoughts,  notwithstanding  your  mo- 
ther's opinion  of  me  ;  how  infinitely 
more  happy  I  should  esteem  myself, 
quietly  to  enjoy  your  company  at  Al- 
thorp,  than  to  be  troubled  with  the 
noises,  and  engaged  in  the  factions  of  the 
court,  which  I  shall  ever  endeavour  to 
avoid."  Here  follow  many  lines  in  ci- 
pher, which  have  not  been  explained. 
"  When  we  were  at  Bristol,  Sir  William 
was  there,  but  I  hear  he  is  now  gone  to 


COUNTESS    OP   SUNDERLAND.  87 

Hereford,  for  which  I  envy  him,  and  all 
others  that  can  go  to  their  own  houses  ; 
but  I  hope  ere  long,  you  will  let  me  have 
your  company  and  Popet's,  the  thought 
of  which  is  to  me  most  pleasant,  and 
passionately  desired  by  yours, 

Sunderland." 
August  25th,  before  Gloucester. 

He  had  been  made  Earl  of  Sunder- 
land in  the  preceding  June.  He  con- 
tinued to  follow  the  king's  motions,  hav- 
ing determined  always  to  be  present 
where  Charles  commanded  in  person. 
He  wrote  from  Oxford  to  his  wife  just 
before  joining  the  army,  when  about  to 
engage  the  rebels,  in  the  first  battle  of 
Newbury. 

"  My  dearest  heart, 

Since  I  wrote  last  to  you  from  Sulbey, 
we  had  some  hope  of  fighting  with  my 
Lord  of  Essex's  army,  having  certain 
intelligence  of  his  being  in  a  field  conve- 
nient enough,  called  Ripple  field,  towards 
which  we  advanced  with  all  possible 
speed  :  upon  which  he  retired  with  his  ar- 
my to  Tewkesbury,  where,  by  the  advan- 
tage of  the  bridge,  he  was  able  to  make 
good  his  quarters,  with  five  hundred  men 
against  twenty  thousand ;  so  that,  though 
we  were  so  near  as  to  have  been  with 
him  in  two  hours,  his  quarter  being  so 
strong,  it  was  resolved  on  Thursday,  as 
he  would  not  fight  with  us,  we  should 
endeavour  to  force  him  to  it  by  cutting 
off  his  provisions,  for  which  purpose  the 
best  way  was  for  the  body  of  our  army 


88  DOROTHY 

to  go  back  to  Evesholme,  and  for  out 
horses  to  distress  him.  Upon  which  I, 
and  others,  resolved  to  come  for  a  few 
days  to  Oxford,  where  we  arrived  late 
on  Thursday,  there  being  no  probability 
of  righting  very  suddenly.  As  soon  as  I 
came,  I  went  to  your  father's,  where  I 
found  Alibone,  with  whose  face  I  was 
better  pleased  than  with  any  of  the  la- 
dies' here.  This  expression  is  so  much 
a  bolder  thing  than  charging  Lord  Es- 
sex, that,  should  this  letter  miscarry, 
and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  our  dames, 
I  should,  by  having  my  eyes  scratched 
out,  be  cleared  from  coming  away  from 
the  army  from  fear,  where  if  I  had  staid, 
it  seems  odd  if  I  lost  more  than  one. 
Mrs.  Jermyn  met  my  Lord  Jermyn, 
who,  notwithstanding  your  intelligence, 
is  but  a  Baron,  with  whom  I  came  to 
Woodstock,  who  told  me  she  would 
write  to  you,  which  I  hope  she  hath 
done  ;  for  since  I  came  here  I  have  seen 
no  creature  but  your  father,  and  my  un- 
cle ;  so  that  I  am  altogether  ignorant  of 
the  intrigues  of  this  place.  Before  I  go 
hence  I  shall  have  a  letter  for  you.  I 
take  the  best  care  I  can  about  my  eco- 
nomical affairs.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not 
be  able  to  get  you  a  better  house,  every 
body  thinking  me  mad  for  speaking 
about  it.  Pray  bless  Popet  for  me,  and 
tell  her  I  would  have  writ  to  her,  but 
that,  upon  mature  deliberation,  I  found 
it  uncivil  to  return  an  answer  to  a  lady 
in  another  character  than  her  own,  which 


COUNTESS    OF    SUNDERLAND.  89 

I  am  not  yet  learned  enough  to  do.  I 
cannot,  by  walking  about  my  chamber, 
call  any  thing  more  to  mind  to  set  down 
here  :  and  really  I  have  made  you  no 
small  compliment  in  writing  thus  much, 
for  I  have  so  great  a  cold  that  I  do  no- 
thing but  sneeze,  and  my  eyes  do  no- 
thing but  water,  all  the  while  I  am  in 
the  posture  of  holding  down  my  head.  I 
beseech  you  present  his  service  to  my 
lady,  who  is  most  passionately  and  per- 
fectly yours. 

Sunderland." 
Oxford,  Sept.  16,  1643. 

By  "  Popet"  he  meant  his  little 
daughter,  then  two  years  old,  and  by 
"  my  lady,"  the  Countess  of  Leicester, 
who  was  with  her  daughter  at  Althorpe. 

He  did  not  see  his  wife  again.  The 
battle  of  Newbury  was  fought  on  the 
20th,  the  fourth  day  after  the  date  of 
this  letter.  The  king's  horse,  in  which 
Lord  Sunderland  served,  "  charged," 
says  Clarendon,  "  with  a  kind  of  con- 
tempt of  the  enemy,  and  with  wonderful 
boldness,  upon  all  grounds  of  inequality  ; 
and  were  so  far  too  hard  for  the  troops 
of  the  other  side,  that  they  routed  them 
in  most  places  :"  and  here,  he  adds,  fell 
"  the  Earl  of  Sunderland,  a  lord  of  great 
fortune ;  tender  years,  being  not  above 
three  and  twenty  years  of  age ;  and  an  ear- 
ly judgment  ;  who,  having  no  command  in 
the  army,  attended  upon  the  king's  per- 
son, under  the  obligation  of  honour ;  and 
putting  himself  that  day  in  the  king's 
c  9 


90  POROTHY 

troop,  a  volunteer,  was  taken  away  by  a 
cannon  bullet."  He  lived  for  a  short 
time  after  he  had  received  the  shot,  and 
it  appears  from  Lloyd's  expressions, 
that  he  spent  the  interval  in  holy 
thoughts. 

Lady  Sunderland,  when  she  was  thus 
left  a  widow,  had  two  children  :  Robert, 
who,  succeeding  to  his  father's  title,  be- 
came well  known  during  the  following 
reigns,  and  Dorothy,  afterwards  Mar- 
chioness of  Halifax  ;  another  daughter 
was  born  soon  after  her  husband's  death, 
and  named  Penelope,  but  died  in  infan- 
cy. Her  mother,  Lady  Leicester,  was 
with  her  when  her  affliction  came  upon 
her,  and  is  said  to  have  attended  upon 
her  tenderly  through  several  months  of 
illness.  She  was  herself  a  woman  of 
gentleness  and  refinement,  who  had 
sought  her  own  happiness  in  domestic 
life,  and  was  well  able  to  feel  for  her 
daughter's  bereavement.  Lord  Leices- 
ter wrote  thus  to  her  on  her  grief : 

"  Your  reason  will  assure  you  that, 
besides  the  vanity  of  bemoaning  that 
which  hath  no  remedy,  you  offend  him 
whom  you  loved,  if  you  hurt  that  person 
whom  he  loved.  Remember  how  ap- 
prehensive he  was  of  your  dangers,  and 
how  sorry  for  any  thing  that  troubled 
you.  Imagine  how  he  sees  that  you  af- 
flict and  hurt  yourself.  You  will  then 
believe  that,  though  he  looks  upon  it 
without  any  perturbation,  for  that  can- 
not be  admitted  by  the  blessed  condition. 


COUNTESS    OF    SUNDERLAND.         91 

wherein  he  is,  yet  he  may  censure  you, 
and  think  you  forgetful  of  the  friendship 
that  was  between  you,  if  you  pursue 
not  his  desires  in  being  careful  of  your- 
self, who  was  so  dear  unto  him.  But 
he  sees  you  not.  He  knows  not  what 
you  do.  Well,  what  then  ?  would  you 
do  any  thing  that  would  displease  him 
if  he  knew  it,  because  he  is  where  he 
doth  not  know  it  ?  I  am  sure  that  was 
never  in  your  thoughts  ;  for  the  rules  of 
your  actions  were,  and  must  be,  virtue, 
and  affection  to  your  husband  ;  not  the 
consideration  of  his  ignorance  or  know- 
ledge of  what  you  do  :  that  is  but  an  ac- 
cident ;  neither  do  I  think  that  his  pres- 
ence was  at  any  time  more  than  a  cir- 
cumstance not  at  all  necessary  to  your 
abstaining  from  those  things  that  might 
displease  him." 

Lord  Sunderland  was  buried  at  his 
estate  of  Brington,  in  Northamptonshire, 
and  thither  his  widow  retiring,  lived 
several  years  there  with  her  children. 
"  She  is  not  to  be  mentioned,"  says 
Lloyd,  in  his  Memoirs  of  the  Loyalists, 
"  without  the  highest  honour  in  this 
catalogue  of  sufferers,  to  so  many  of 
whom  her  house  was  a  sanctuary,  her 
interest  a  protection,  her  estate  a  main- 
tenance, and  the  livings  in  her  gift  a  pre- 
ferment." 

In  the  mean  time  her  parents,  after 
having  at  the  beginning  of  the  rebellion 
suffered  sequestration  of  their  estates, 
had  them  restored  by  the  Parliament, 


92  DOROTHY,    ETC. 

with  the  view,  as  it  is  supposed,  of  con- 
ciliating Lady  Leicester's  brother,  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland,  and  her  eldest 
son,  Lord  Lisle.  Lord  Leicester  being 
contented  to  remain  inactive,  was  allow- 
ed to  live  unmolested  at  Penshurst,  and 
the  king's  two  youngest  children,  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  and  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester, were  placed  there  under  the 
charge  of  his  countess,  in  1649.  The 
young  princess  left  a  valuable  jewel  to 
her  when  she  died,  which  the  Parlia- 
ment did  not  permit  her  to  retain.  Lady 
Leicester  died  in  1659,  having  witness- 
ed the  second  marriage,  and  perhaps  the 
second  widowhood  of  her  eldest  daugh- 
ter. 

Of  Lady  Sunderland  it  is  said  that 
she  lived  at  Brington,  "  till  finding  the 
heavy  load  of  housekeeping  too  trouble- 
some, she  went  to  her  father  at  Pens- 
hurst," where,  with  his  approval,  she 
married  Robert  Smith,  a  Kentish  gen- 
tleman, who  was  related  to  her  family. 
Evelyn  notices  in  his  journal  of  July, 
1652,  that  going  from  Tunbridge  Wells 
to  Penshurst,  he  found  it  full  of  compa- 
ny on  the  marriage  of  his  old  fellow  col- 
legian, Mr.  Robert  Smith,  with  Lord 
Sunderland's  widow  :  she  survived  him, 
and  died  herself  in  1683,  leaving  by  her 
second  husband  one  son,  Robert,  gov- 
ernor of  Dover  Castle,  under  Charles  II. 


93 


ELIZABETH  LADY  CAPEL. 

Hardly  any  of  the  ladies  of  this  pe- 
riod can  call  forth  more  interest  for  her 
husband's  sake  than  the  wife  of  Lord 
Capel ;  and  there  is  something  pleasing 
as  well  as  striking,  in  the  harmony  and 
the  contrast  that  exist  between  his  bril- 
liant course  and  noble  death  upon  the 
scaffold,  and  her  calm  widowhood  and 
peaceful  death-bed. 

She  was  descended  from  the  family  of 
the  Morisons,  at  Cashiobury,  in  Hert- 
fordshire, of  which  she  became  the  only 
representative,  when  her  father,  Sir 
Charles  Morison,  had  lost  all  his  other 
children.  Her  parents  were  anxious  to 
find  a  suitable  marriage  for  her,  and 
after  much  consideration,  and  the  refusal 
of  many  who  were  proposed  for  her, 
they  gave  her  in  her  seventeenth  year, 
to  Arthur  Lord  Capel,  Baron  of  Had- 
ham.  Lord  Clarendon,  in  his  character 
of  this  loyal  nobleman,  thus  speaks  of 
his  domestic  life :  "  He  had  always 
lived  in  a  state  of  great  plenty,  and 
general  estimation,  having  a  very  noble 
fortune  of  his  own  by  descent,  and  a  fair 
addition  to  it.  by  his  marriage  with  an 
excellent  wife,  a  lady  of  very  worthy 
extraction,  of  great  virtue  and  beauty, 
by  whom  he  had  a  numerous  issue  of 
both  sexes,  in  which  he  took  great  joy 
and  comfort ;  so  that  no  man  was  more 
happy  in  all  his  domestic  affairs,  and  he 


94  ELIZABETH 

was  so  much  the  more  happy,  in  that  he 
thought  himself  most  blessed  in  them. 

"  And  yet  the  king's  honour  was  no 
sooner  violated,  and  his  just  power  in- 
vaded, than  he  threw  all  those  blessings 
behind  him  ;  and  having  no  other  obli- 
gations to  the  crown,  than  those  which 
his  own  honour  and  conscience  suggest- 
ed to  him,  he  frankly  engaged  his  per- 
son and  his  fortune,  from  the  beginning 
of  the  troubles,  as  many  others  did,  in 
all  actions  and  enterprises  of  the  greatest 
hazard  and  danger  ;  and  continued  so  to 
the  end,  without  ever  making  one  false 
step,  as  few  others  did,  though  he  had 
once  by  the  iniquity  of  a  faction  that 
then  prevailed,  an  indignity  put  upon 
him,  that  might  have  excused  him  for 
some  remission  of  his  former  warmth ; 
but  it  made  no  other  impression  on  him 
than  to  be  quiet  and  contented,  whilst 
they  let  him  alone,  and  with  the  same 
cheerfulness  to  obey  the  first  summons 
when  he  was  called  out,  which  was 
quickly  after." 

The  character  of  Lord  Capel  in  pri- 
vate and  public  life,  cannot  here  be  pur- 
sued, but  must  be  referred  to,  if  not  al- 
ready well  known,  in  Clarendon's  His- 
tory, where  we  see  him  both  as  he  was 
at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  in  the  height 
of  wealth  and  prosperity  when  the  rebel- 
lion begun,  and  as  soon  after  his  king's 
death,  he  laid  down  his  life  upon  the 
scaffold.  A  petition  was  presented  by 
his  lady,  and  discussed  by  Cromwell  in 


IiADY    CAPEL.  95 

Parliament,  who  having  highly  praised 
him,  concluded  by  saying  that  he  knew 
him  well,  and  knew  him  to  be  the  last 
man  in  England  that  would  forsake  the 
royal  interest ;  and  still  dwelling  upon 
his  virtues,  turned  them  into  reasons  for 
his  destruction,  because  whatever  con- 
dition he  was  in,  he  would  be  a  thorn  in 
their  side.  Bishop  Morley  thus  relates 
his  preparations  for  death  and  farewell 
to  his  wife  and  other  relations  : 

"  The  next  morning,  [March  8th, 
1649,]  at  the  hour  agreed  between  us, 
which  was  between  six  and  seven,  I 
came  to  him  again,  and  found  him  ready 
to  receive  me.  We  went  into  a  cham- 
ber alone  together,  where  after  some 
spiritual  conference  suitable  to  the  pre- 
sent occasion,  I  first  prayed  with  him, 
and  then  he  prayed  himself,  with  very 
great  zeal  and  fervour,  and  for  others  as 
well  as  for  himself;  nay,  for  his  enemies 
as  well  as  for  his  friends,  but  especially 
for  the  king,  the  kingdom,  and  the 
Church.  And  all  this  with  such  apt  and 
unaffected  expressions,  and  in  so  regular 
a  method,  that  one  might  easily  perceive 
prayer  was  a  thing  he  had  so  often  exer- 
cised, that  it  was  grown  habitual  to 
him. 

"  Having  thus  prepared  himself,  he 
did  with  great  humility  and  devotion 
receive  the  holy  sacrament,  together 
with  the  Earl  of  Norwich  and  Sir  John 
Owen,  who  were  condemned  to  suffer 
with  him,  but  are   yet   (thanks  be  to 


96  ELIZABETH 

God)  both  living  ;  and  will  live,  I  hope, 
to  see  justice  done  upon  those  who  did 
condemn  them. 

"  Having  received  the  sacrament,  and 
being  much  comforted  by  it,  (as  rinding 
in  himself  all  the  gracious  effects  of  it,) 
he  was  presently  put  to  the  trial  of  his 
spiritual  strength,  by  taking  his  leave 
of  the  nearest  and  dearest  relations  that 
can  be  betwixt  flesh  and  blood,  and  the 
strongest  ties  that  a  noble  nature  can 
have  unto  the  world.  For  that  excel- 
lent lady  his  wife,  and  his  eldest  son, 
together  with  two  of  his  uncles,  and  his 
nephew,  Sir  Thomas  Corbett,  came  all 
into  the  room  at  once,  (as  being  not  per- 
mitted to  do  it  severally,)  and  at  once 
assaulted  him,  (as  it  were,)  with  such 
passionate  looks,  gestures  and  words, 
bemoaning  and  bewailing  him  and  them- 
selves, (his  lady  especially,)  with  such 
sweet  and  tender  expressions  of  love, 
sorrow  and  pity,  that  the  greatest  natu- 
ral courage  in  the  world  must  needs 
have  been  shaken  with  it,  had  it  not 
been  supported  (as  he  was)  with  more 
than  human  strength  and  firmness.  I 
am  sure  it  was  the  saddest  sight  that 
ever  I  saw,  and  such  a  one  as  even  that 
great  courage  of  his  could  not  choose 
but  be  a  little  softened  and  melted  with 
it;  but  he  quickly  recollected  himself, 
and  then,  with  a  cheerful  countenance, 
told  his  wife  and  the  rest  that  he  and 
they  must  all  submit,  not  only  with  pa- 
tience, but  cheerfulness  to  the  Divine 


LADY    CAPEL.  97 

Providence,  which  no  doubt  had,  and 
would,  order  all  things,  and  as  should  be 
best  for  him  and  them  too,  though  per- 
haps it  did  not  yet  appear  to  them  to  be 
80. 

"  Then  having  recommended  the  care 
of  his  children  and  servants  unto  his 
Lady,  he  commended  both  her  and  his 
sons,  as  they  loved  him,  to  forgive  his 
enemies*  '  and  though,'  said  he  unto  his 
son,  '  I  would  not  have  you  neglect  any 
honourable  and  just  occasion  to  serve 
your  king  and  country,  with  the  hazard 
of  your  life  and  fortune  ;  yet,  I  would 
have  you  engage  yourself,  (as  I,  thanks 
be  to  God  for  it,  have  done,)  neither  out 
of  desire  of  revenge,  nor  hope  of  reward, 
but  out  of  a  conscience  of  your  duty 
only.  My  land  (said  he)  was  so  settled 
upon  you  by  your  grandfather,  that  no 
pretence  of  crime  in  me  can  deprive  you 
of  it.  The  best  legacy  I  can  leave  you 
is  my  prayers  for  you,  and  a  verse  of 
David's  Psalms,  which  I  command  you, 
upon  my  blessing,  to  make  a  part  of 
your  daily  prayers,  as  I  have  always 
made  it  a  part  of  mine  :  '  Teach  me  thy 
way,  O  Lord,  and  lead  me  in  a  plain 
path,'  Psalm  27th.  For  I  have  always 
loved  plainness  and  cleanness,  both  in 
my  words  and  actions,  and  abhorred  all 
doubling  and  dissimulation,  and  so  I 
would  have  you  to  do  also.  Then  he 
gave  him  his  blessing,  and  having  em- 
braced his  uncles  and  nephew,  he  took 
his  last  leave  of  them  all,  not  without 


98  ELIZABETH 

some  tears  on  his  part,  as  well  as  many 
on  theirs  ;  his  poor  lady  being  not  able 
to  support  such  a  weight  of  grief,  did 
sink  under  it,  and  was  fain  to  be  carried 
out  from  him.  As  soon  as  all  were  gone, 
and  none  left  in  the  room  but  he  and  I : 
4  Well,  Doctor,'  said  he,  '  the  hardest 
thing  that  I  had  to  do  here  in  this  world 
is  now  past,  the  parting  with  this  poor 
woman  ;  let  us  now  again  to  our  main 
concernment.'  " 

Before  his  death,  he  entreated  Dr. 
Morley  to  comfort  her  when  he  was 
gone. 

He  left  four  sons  and  four  daughters, 
of  whom  Theodosia,  named  after  his  own 
mother,  was  afterwards  married  to  Lord 
Clarendon's  eldest  son,  and  was  remark- 
able, as  Lady  Cornbury,  for  her  beauty 
and  for  her  sudden  early  death. 

It  was  in  March,  1649,  that  Lord  Ca- 
pel  was  beheaded,  and  his  wife  survived 
him  during  the  eleven  following  years  of 
Cromwell's  usurpation,  dying  a  few 
months  before  Charles  II.  was  restored. 
In  her  widowhood  she  occupied  herself 
in  the  care  of  her  children  and  house- 
hold, in  works  of  devotion  and  charity, 
spending  money  in  alms,  even  beyond 
the  advice  of  the  clergyman  whom  she 
employed  as  her  almoner,  obeying  and 
assisting  the  ministers  of  the  Church 
during  the  times  of  trouble,  and  devoting 
part  of  every  day  to  the  exercise  of 
prayer,  meditation,  study  of  the  scrip- 
tures, and  reading,  from  which  she  never 


LADY    CAPEL.  99 

suffered  herself  to  be  diverted  by  busi- 
ness or  company.  A  Bishop  who  knew 
her  well,  and  had  observed  her  mingled 
sweetness  and  gravity  of  demeanour, 
was  accustomed  to  say,  that  he  never 
saw  any  become  herself  so  well  as  the 
good  Lady  Capel. 

About  four  years  before  her  death, 
she  lost  her  second  son,  Charles,  then 
grown  up  to  be  a  gallant  and  hopeful 
young  gentleman,  when  she  sent  for  her 
spiritual  adviser,  Mr.  Barker,  as  she 
habitually  did  on  any  occasion  of  grief, 
and  addressed  him  in  these  words  :  '  Sir, 
I  pray  be  free  and  plain  with  me,  and 
tell  me  seriously  and  unfeignedly  what 
sin  or  vice  did  you  ever  take  notice  of 
in  my  practice  and  conversation  ?  for  I 
am  sure  something  is  amiss,  and  some- 
thing God  would  have  amended  in  me, 
that  he  does  thus  continually  ply  me 
with  crosses.' 

As  she  was  patient  in  her  afflictions, 
and  careful  to  improve  them,  so  she  was 
diligent  and  active  in  fulfilling  her  du- 
ties, and  received  strength  to  go  through 
all  that  was  required  of  her,  notwith- 
standing the  delicacy  of  her  education 
and  tenderness  of  her  constitution.  In 
her  family  devotions  she  required  the 
attendance  of  all  her  servants,  on  which 
point  only  she  showed  herself  a  strict 
mistress,  and  would  tell  Mr.  Barker  that 
she  never  pleased  herself  in  her  family 
duties,  nor  thought  that  she  served  God 
acceptably,  unless  she  had  all  her  family 
about  her. 


100  ELIZABETH 

This  account  of  her  life  is  given  by 
Mr.  Barker  after  many  years'  intimate 
acquaintance  with  her,  and  he  also  at- 
tended upon  her  death  bed,  which 
through  the  severe  sufferings  of  several 
months  was  the  scene  of  inward  peace 
and  joy  as  well  as  of  unwearied  pa- 
tience. 

"  One  time  indeed,"  he  says,  (and 
never  but  that  once,)  "  when  I  was  with 
her,  I  found  her  labouring  under  some 
inward  conflicts  and  thoughtfulness 
touching  her  spiritual  state  and  condi- 
tion ;  but  those  such  as  right  well  be- 
came the  pious  hope  and  humility  of  a 
Christian  :  whereupon,  when  I  desired 
her,  that  if  any  particular  scruple  did 
trouble  her  thoughts,  and  lay  heavy 
upon  her  spirits,  she  would  please  to 
ease  her  mind  of  it  and  let  me  know  it, 
that  I  might  the  better  fit  and  order  my 
applications  to  her.  To  which  she  re- 
turned me  this  answer  :  that  she  had 
been  very  faithful  in  her  examination  of 
her  conscience,  and  had  desired  God  to 
assist  and  direct  her  in  that  search,  and 
yet  could  not  find  out  any  one  particular 
sin  which  did  aflict  her  spirit  more  than 
another ;  but  however  confessed  herself 
a  great  sinner  before  God.  She  was 
(it  seems)  very  desirous  to  take  as  much 
shame  and  guilt  to  herself  as  was  possi- 
ble, that  so  she  might  leave  the  more 
glory  for  the  free  grace  and  pardon  of  God. 

"And  accordingly,  still  as  she  cast 
down  one  eye  upon  sin  at  any  time,  she 


I.ADY    CAPEL.  101 

was  ever  careful  to  keep  the  other  firm- 
ly and  steadfastly  fixed  upon  her  Sa- 
viour   This  was  the  right  com- 
plexion and  constitution  of  her  piety  ;  an 
equal  temperament  of  fear  and  hope,  of 
humility  and  confidence ;  as  her  hope 
was  evermore  a  fearing  hope,  so  was 
her  fear  always  a  believing,  hoping  fear. 
She  carried  too  deep  a  sense  of  sin  in 
her  conscience  to  be  proud  of  any  virtue 
or  worthiness  of  her  own,  and  was  al- 
ways (even  under  her  greatest  conflicts 
and  agonies)  too  good  a  Christian  to  de- 
spair of  pardon." 

Towards  the  latter  part  of  her  sick- 
ness, she  twice  received  the  blessed  Sa- 
crament of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ, 
and  both  times  with  expressions  of  de- 
votion and  reverence  ;  on  the  first  of 
these  two  occasions,  especially,  when 
though  her  strength  was  much  decayed, 
and  her  pain  sharp,  she  would  receive 
upon  her  knees,  saying  to  Mr.  Barker, 
that  as  long  as  God  lent  her  the  use  of 
her  knees,  she  resolved  to  use  them  in 
that  solemn  service,  as  a  testimony  of 
her  unfeigned  humility  and  reverence  of 
the  majesty  and  dreadfulness  of  those 
sacred  mysteries. 

After  she  took  to  her  bed,  she  sent  for 
him  more  frequently  than  before,  and 
three  days  before  her  death,  she  asked 
and  received  the  Church's  last  com- 
fort and  blessing,  the  benefit  of  Abso- 
lution, which  she  took  with  great  thank- 
fulness, and  showed  a  heavenly  com- 
fort and  peace  ensuing  upon  it. 


102  ELIZABETH 

Her  last  days  were  full  of  the  grace  of 
God,  who  granted  that  wish  which  she 
had  often  expressed  with  submission  to 
His  good  pleasure,  and  gave  her  some 
sensible  tastes  of  heavenly  joy,  fresh 
comforts  daily  breaking  in  upon  her  soul, 
her  former  fears  vanishing,  and  her 
whole  mind  sweetly  composed  into  a 
pious  confidence.  A  few  days  before 
her  death  she  spoke  to  the  following 
effect,  addressing  herself  to  her  minis- 
ter : — 

'  O,  Sir,  what  a  gracious  God  have  I ! 
How  rich  in  his  mercies  towards  me  ! 
How  favourable  in  His  corrections  of 
me !  The  thing  which  I  so  greatly 
feared,  (a  painful  torturing  death,)  He 
has  turned  into  ease  and  comfort ;  and 
my  worldly  cares  and  thoughtfulness  for 
the  provisions  of  my  children,  He  has 
also  in  a  great  measure  taken  off  my 
hand  :  and  now,  what  do  I  lingering  and 
tarrying  here  any  longer  !  All  my  work 
is  done,  and  the  world  has  no  farther 
need  of  me.  Why  may  I  not  forthwith 
go  to  my  God  ?  Is  it  not  much  better 
for  me  to  be  dissolved,  and  to  be  with 
Christ  V  These  and  such  like  heavenly 
sayings  were  her  usual  discourses  with 
him,  so  that  he  rejoiced  whenever  she 
sent  for  him. 

On  January  26th  she  sent  for  him  four 
several  times  to  pray  with  her,  thrice  in 
the  morning,  and  once  in  the  afternoon, 
at  which  last  time  all  her  children,  ex- 
cept one  who  was  not  then  in  town,  were 


XADY    CAPEL.  103 

present,  and  joined  in  the  prayers.  Soon 
after,  he  was  summoned  again,  to  per- 
form his  last  ministerial  office,  the  re- 
commendation of  her  soul  into  the  hands 
of  Almighty  God,  and  then  her  senses 
beginning  to  fail,  she  drew  her  last 
breath  a  few  minutes  afterwards  in  much 
peace  and  sweetness. 

"  I  have  in  my  time  been  with  seve- 
ral dying  persons,"  concludes  Mr.  Bar- 
ker, after  a  solemn  protestation  of  his 
earnestness,  "  seen  their  piety,  observ- 
ed their  patience,  taken  special  notice  of 
their  whole  carriage  and  behaviour,  yet 
never  in  all  my  life  did  I  see  such  an 
uniform  samplar  of  piety,  nor  a  whiter 
soul  return  to  its  Maker." 

She  died  on  January  26th,  1660,  and 
was  buried  with  her  husband  at  Little 
Hadham,  in  Hertfordshire. 

A  true  and  short  Narrative  of  the  man- 
ner of  the  death  of  the  Right  Hon.  the 
Lord  Capel. 

"  I  went  often  to  visit  the  right  hon- 
ourable the  Lord  Capel,  a  little  before 
his  death,  whilst  he  was  a  prisoner  in 
St.  James's  house  in  the  Park,  and  al- 
ways found  him  in  such  a  temper  as  be- 
came an  innocent  and  well  resolved  per- 
son. 

"  The  night  before  he  was  to  suffer, 
he  told  me,  he  had  a  great  desire  to  re- 
ceive the  Sacrament  before  his  death,  if 
he  might  receive  it  from  a  minister  of 
the  king's  party,  and  according  to  the 


104  ELIZABETH 

Liturgy  of  the  Church  of  England  ;  but 
said  withal,  he  feared  no  such  person  as 
he  would  receive  it  from  could  give  it 
him  without  endangering  himself,  and 
that  he  was  loath  to  endanger  any  man. 
I  replied  I  knew  not  what  danger  there 
might  be  in  doing  that  Christian  office  to 
a  dying  man ;  but  was  resolved  (if  he 
pleased  to  take  it  from  my  hands)  to 
venture  any  thing  that  could  come  of  it, 
rather  than  his  lordship  should  die  with- 
out that  satisfaction.  He  seemed  to  be, 
and  no  doubt  was  very  glad  of  this  offer 
of  mine,  and  gave  me  many  thanks  for 
it ;  desiring  me,  that  (without  losing 
any  more  of  the  little  time  he  had  left)  I 
would  confer  and  pray  with  him,  in  or- 
der to  his  preparation  for  receiving  the 
Holy  Sacrament  next  morning.  I  did 
so,  and  found  that  he  could  not  accuse 
himself  of  any  great  known  sin,  commit- 
ted against  the  light  of  his  own  con- 
science, but  one  only  ;  and  that  was  the 
giving  his  vote  in  parliament  for  the 
death  of  my  Lord  of  Strafford  ;  which 
(said  he)  I  did  against  my  conscience  ; 
not  out  of  any  malice  to  the  person 
of  the  man  ;  but  out  of  a  base  fear  (they 
are  his  own  words)  '  and  carried  away 
with  the  violence  of  a  prevailing  fac- 
tion ;'  and  for  which  (said  he)  '  I  have 
been  and  am  heartily  sorry,  and  have 
often  with  tears  begged,  and  (I  hope) 
obtained  pardon  of  Almighty  God  ;'  add- 
ing, '  that'  (if  I  thought  it  necessary  or 
fit)    '  he   would  confess  this  great  and 


LADY    CAPEL.  105 

scandalous  sin  of  his,  together  with  the 
cause  of  it,  openly  upon  the  scaffold,  to 
God's  glory  and  his  own  shame  :'  which 
I  telling  him  I  thought  it  would  be  inge- 
nuously and  Christianly  done  of  him  to 
do,  he  did  accordingly  the  next  morning. 

"  Then  having  prayed  again  with 
him,  I  left  him  for  that  night,  in  a  most 
Christian  temper,  to  his  own  devout 
meditations." 

After  the  parting  from  his  wife  and 
friends,  already  given  in  the  Life,  he 
said  to  the  Bishop,  *  Let  us  now  again 
to  our  main  concernment.  I  believe  I 
shall  be  called  upon  presently  to  go  to 
the  place  where  I  am  to  take  my  leave 
i of  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  and,  I  thank 
my  God,  I  find  myself  very  well  dis- 
posed to  it,  and  prepared  for  it.'  And 
then  he  told  me  he  was  in  good  hope 
that  when  he  came  to  die,  he  should 
have  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  die  only. 
*  For,'  (said  he)  when  I  am  upon  the 
scaffold,  having  made  a  confession  of  my 
faith,  and  said  something  in  honour  of 
my  Master  that  was,  and  for  the  service 
of  my  Master  that  now  is,  I  will  only 
repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer  upon  my 
knees,  and  then  lay  my  head  upon  the 
block,  desiring  the  executioner,  that  up- 
on the  stretching  forth  of  my  right  hand, 
(which  shall  be  in  the  very  act  of  re- 
commending my  soul  unto  my  Saviour,) 
he  would  instantly  do  his  office ;  and 
then  he  showed  me  the  heads,  of  what 
he  meant  to  speak  of,  written  with  his 


106  ELIZABETH 

own  hand,  which  after  he  had  made  use 
of,  he  gave  unto  his  servant  just  as  he 
laid  himself  down  to  receive  the  stroke, 
and  commanded  him  to  deliver  that  pa- 
per unto  me  as  soon  as  he  was  dead, 
which  he  did  accordingly.  We  had 
scarce  made  an  end  of  reading  this  pa- 
per, when  Lieut.  Colonel  Beecher,  the 
officer  appointed  to  convey  him  and  the 
other  condemned  lords,  with  Sir  John 
Owen,  to  the  place  of  execution,  knock- 
ed at  the  door,  and  told  him  it  was  time 
for  his  lordship  to  go,  whose  summons 
he  very  readily  and  cheerfully  obeyed. 
"  Presently  afterwards,  Duke  Hamil- 
ton, the  Earl  of  Holland,  the  Earl  of 
Norwich  and  he,  together  with  Sir  John4 
Owen,  were  carried  through  St.  James's 
Park  in  sedans,  to  Sir  Robert  Cotton's 
house  beyond  the  upper  end  of  West- 
minster Hall,  where  they  were  all  in 
one  room,  and  stayed  there  at  least  an 
hour  before  Duke  Hamilton  (who  was 
ordered  to  die  first)  was  carried  to  the 
place  of  execution,  which  was  upon  a 
scaffold  just  before  Westminster  Hall,  in 
the  new  palace.  During  the  time  of 
their  stay  in  Sir  Robert  Cotton's  house, 
my  Lord  Capel,  finding  his  stomach  a 
little  ill,  and  fearing  he  might  be  worse, 
if  he  did  not  do  then  what  he  had  for  a 
long  time  accustomed  himself  to  do 
daily,  called  me  aside  and  asked  me 
whether  he  might  not  take  a  pipe  of  to- 
bacco without  scandal,  saying,  he  was 
afraid  it  might  very  much  discompose 


LADY    CAPEL.  107 

him  if  he  did  not ;  I  told  him  I  thought 
he  might,  and  that  in  prudence  he  ought 
to  do  it,  rather  than  hazard  any  such  in- 
convenience at  such  a  time,  when  he  had 
need  to  be  in  the*best  temper:  where- 
upon Duke  Hamilton  and  the  Earl  of 
Holland,  drinking  each  of  them  a  little 
wine  to  comfort  their  spirits,  he  took  a 
little  tobacco  to  the  same  end  also  :  all 
the  time  of  his  being  there  (which  was 
at  least  two  hours,  he  being  the  last  of 
the  three  that  was  to  be  put  to  death) 
he  spent  either  in  conference  with  me, 
or  in  soliloquies  and  prayers  unto  God  : 
at  last,  when  (the  other  two  lords  being 
already  executed)  Lieut.  Colonel  Beech- 
er  came  to  fetch  him  to  the  scaffold,  he 
first  took  his  leave  of  my  Lord  of  Nor- 
wich and  Sir  John  Owen,  who  were  re- 
prieved ;  giving  my  Lord  of  Norwich 
his  cane,  and  would  have  taken  his  leave 
there  of  me  also,  but  I  told  him  I  would 
wait  upon  him  to  the  scaffold,  and,  if  I 
might  be  suffered,  to  do  him  the  best 
service  I  could  in  assisting  him  in  the 
last  act  of  his  tragedy  :  then,  before  he 
went  out  of  the  room,  turning  him  to  the 
Lieut.  Colonel  and  his  soldiers,  (who 
were  then,  and  had  been  his  guard  du- 
ring his  imprisonment  in  St.  James's 
house,)  •  Gentlemen,  (said  he,)  I  do  not 
only  from  my  heart  forgive  you,  but 
thank  you  for  all  the  kindness  and  ci- 
vility I  have  found  from  you,  and  as  I 
forgive  you,  so  I  forgive  your  officers 
also,  even  those  that  are  the  authors  of 


108  ELIZABETH 

my  death  ;  for  I  verily  believe  that  none 
of  them  do  what  they  do  out  of  any  mal- 
ice at  all  to  me,  but  because  I  stand  in 
the  way  of  something  else  they  have  to 
do,  which  they  think' I  must  and  will 
oppose,  as  long  as  I  live,  to  the  utmost 
of  my  power.'  Then  calling  me  to  him, 
and  giving  me  his  watch  to  keep  as  a 
remembrance  of  him,  '  Doctor,  (said  he,) 
I  believe  they  will  not  suffer  you  to  ac- 
company and  assist  me  upon  the  scaf- 
fold ;  but  I  thank  God,  the  work,  where- 
in I  stood  especially  in  need  of  your 
help,  is  done  ;  I  heartily  thank  God  and 
you  for  it.  All  that  I  shall  desire  of  you 
more,  is  to  assist  me  with  your  prayers 
while  I  am  alive,  and  to  do  the  best  you 
can  to  comfort  my  poor  wife  when  I  am 
dead ;  and  in  your  prayers  for  me,  de- 
sire Almighty  God  to  assist  me  with  his 
grace,  that  in  this  last  act  of  my  life  I 
may  so  behave  myself  as  becomes  a 
good  Christian  dying  in  and  for  so  good 
a  cause  as  this  is  :  and  particularly  that 
for  the  manner  of  my  death,  it  may  be 
with  an  humble  confidence  in  God's 
mercy,  and  with  a  modest  assurance  of 
a  better  life ;  and  lastly,  that  I  may 
neither  say  nor  do  any  thing  that  may 
savour  either  of  a  base  fear  or  of  a  vain 
ostentation.' 

"  When  he  had  said  this,  he  was  imme- 
diately conducted  by  the  aforesaid  Lieut. 
Colonel  and  soldiers  through  Westmin- 
ster Hall,  and  betwixt  the  guard  of  sol- 
diers which  stood  all  along  and  kept  off 


LADY    CAPEL.  109 

the  people  which  thronged  to  see  him, 
and  who,  admiring  the  courage  and  con- 
stancy that  appeared  in  his  very  coun- 
tenance, and  mien  itself,  did  generally 
commend  and  bless  him,  and  prayed  for 
him  with  loud  exclamations  as  he  went 
by  them. 

"  I  followed  him  as  far  as  the  foot  of 
the  scaffold,  and  would  have  gone  up 
after  him,  but  the  Lieut.  Colonel  would 
not  suffer  me  ;  though  either  of  the  other 
lords  had  their  divines  there  with  them, 
but  they  were  Presbyterians,  and  I  was 
generally  known  to  be  a  Royalist  and 
Episcopal,  which  was  the  only  reason  I 
can  imagine  why  they  should  not  suffer 
me  to  appear  before  such  a  multitude  of 
people  as  an  assistant  at  such  an  action ; 
unless  it  were,  perhaps,  that  they  would 
have  the  people  believe  that  the  Lord 
Capel  died  indeed  resolutely,  like  an  old 
Roman :  but  that  the  constancy  and 
courage  he  showed  at  his  death,  was  but 
an  effect  of  his  natural  temper  and  con- 
stitution, and  not  of  a  Christian  faith 
and  hope,  or  of  any  sense  of  piety,  as 
appeared  by  his  refusing  or  not  caring 
to  have  a  divine  with  him  at  his  death  : 
which  was  most  false,  indeed,  dying  for 
loyalty  as  he  did,  he  would  not  in  the 
last  act  of  his  life  make  use  of  any  of 
those  ministers  whom  he  had  reason  to 
think  had  been  the  contrivers  and  plot- 
ters, or  at  least  the  promoters  and  abet- 
tors, of  the   most   causeless   and  most 


110  ELIZABETH 

horrid  rebellion  that  ever  had  been  ie 
the  world. 

"  When  I  saw  that  I  could  be  no  fur- 
ther useful  to  him,  (he  having  embraced 
me  and  taken  his  last  leave  of  me  at  the 
foot  of  the  scaffold,)  I  presently  got  my- 
self out  of  the  place,  and  out  of  the  hor- 
ror of  that  sight,  which  nothing  but  the 
consideration  of  doing  him  some  service 
could  have  hired  me  to  see. 

"  How  he  behaved  himself  afterwards 
upon  the  scaffold,  both  before  and  at  his- 
death,  his  best  friends  need  desire  no 
better  testimony  than  that  which  was 
there  given  by  his  enemies,  who  could 
not  choose  but  admire  and  applaud  thafc 
virtue  of  his,  which  their  barbarous  cru- 
elty would  not  suffer  the  world  to  enjoy 
any  longer. 

*fc  Thus  died  that  truly  noble,  truly 
valiant,  truly  Christian,  and  every  way 
most  truly  worthy  and  right  honourable 
the  Lord  Capel ;  a  great  example  of 
virtue,  piety,  and  loyalty — in  the  midst 
of  a  most  villanous,  profane,  and  rebel- 
lious generation.  A  man  whom  the 
world  never  valued  to  his  worth,  until  it 
grew  to  be  unworthy  of  him. 

George  Morley." 

(Ita  testor.) 

"  Though  I  writ  this  narrative  whilst 
things  were  fresh  in  my  memory,  yet  I 
omitted  one  thing  worthy  the  taking  no- 
tice of  by  posterity,  viz.,  that  a  little 
before  he  went  to  the  scaffold,  he  told 


LADY    CAPEL,  111 

me  that  if  I  thought  there  was  nothing 
of  vain  ostentation  in  it,  he  would  give 
order  that  his  heart  should  be  taken  out 
of  his  body,  and  kept  in  a  silver  box, 
until  his  majesty  that  now  is,  came 
home,  (as  he  doubted  not  but  he  would,) 
and  then  that  it  might  be  presented  unto 
him,  with  his  humble  desire,  that  where 
the  king  his  father  was  interred,  it  might 
be  buried  at  his  feet,  in  testimony  of  the 
zeal  he  had  for  his  service,  and  the  af- 
fection he  had  for  his  person  whilst  he 
lived  ;  which  intention  of  his,  being  ap- 
proved by  me,  was  afterwards  put  in 
execution,  as  far  at  least  as  it  could  be 
by  him,  or  those  whom  he  entrusted 
with  it.  For,  as  soon  as  the  king  came 
home,  (whom  I  had  told  of  it  whilst  he 
was  abroad,)  I  brought  Sir  Thomas  Cor- 
bet to  him,  and  saw  him  give  the  silver 
box,  with  that  generous  and  loyal  heart 
in  it,  to  the  king's  own  hands  ;  what  is 
since  become  of  it  1  know  not."* 


*  Extracted  from  "  Bishop  Morley's  account 
of  the  manner  of  the  death  of  the  Right  Hon. 
Arthur  Lord  Capel,  who  was  beheaded  by  the 
rebels,  March  9th,  1649.  Copied  from  the  ori- 
ginal paper  in  the  Bishop's  own  writing."  • 


d  2 


112 


MRS.  BASIRE. 

Mrs.  Basire  is  only  known  by  the 
letters  which  passed  between  her  and 
her  husband,  celebrated  by  writers  of 
his  day  for  his  great  learning,  and  fideli- 
ty to  the  Church  by  whom  he  was 
adopted.  Her  maiden  name  was  Fran- 
ces Corbett,  of  a  good  family  in  Shrop- 
shire, but  no  further  particulars  are 
known  relating  to  her,  except  such  as 
concern  the  attachment  between  her 
and  Dr.  Basire,  and  her  subsequent  con- 
duct as  his  wife,  through  both  peaceful 
and  troublesome  times. 

He  was  born  at  Rouen,  in  1607,  of  a 
Protestant  family  in  the  lowest  order  of 
French  nobility,  but  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
two  he  came  over  to  England  and  re- 
ceived Holy  Orders  from  Thomas  Mor- 
ton, then  Bishop  of  Lichfield  and  Cov- 
entry, who  took  him  to  be  his  domestic 
chaplain,  and  removed  him  to  his  palace 
at  Auckland,  on  his  translation  to  the 
See  of  Durham  in  1632.  He  was  resi- 
ding there  when  he  addressed  the  fol- 
lowing letters  to  Mistress  Frances  Cor- 
bett, before  they  had  obtained  her 
father's  consent  to  their  marriage,  which 
was  probably  delayed  till  her  suitor  had 
obtained  some  provision  for  a  wife. 


MRS.    BASIRE.  113 

"  To  my  dear  friend,  Miss  Frances  Cor- 

hetU  at  Eggemont.     J.  H.  S. 
"  Dear  Fanny,  &c,  &c. 

"  I  hope  the  last  letters  I  sent  by 
London  to  you  and  your  loving  sisters, 
about  six  weeks  ago,  have  had  better 
luck  than  those  I  sent  by  Halifax,  of 
which  I  can  hear  no  news  ;  albeit  I  have 
written  to  Mr.  Ramsden  about  it.  I  am 
afraid  they  came  not  safe  to  his  hands. 
You  may  see  how  covetous  I  am  of  any 
opportunity  to  send  unto  you,  only  to 
let  you  know  still  how  my  heart  is  to- 
wards you,  how  I  daily  offer  up  your 
name  with  me  in  that  sacred  duty,  for 
God  knows  the  hearts..  That  faith  and 
Christian  submission  to  God's  good 
providence,  which  you  professed  in  your 
last,  cheered  me  up  wonderfully.  Go 
on,  sweet  soul,  and  depend  still  upon 
God  ;  and  He  shall  sooner  or  later  pro- 
mote thee;  if  not  by  me,  (for  alas!  what 
am  I  that  I  should  promise  aught  ?  my 
breath  is  in  my  nostrils,)  yet  by  some 
other  means.  It  may  be  so  much  the 
better,  the  greater,  as  more  unexpected. 
I  charge  you  still  to  abound  in  the  acts 
of  devotion  and  true  repentance  ;  to 
cleave  to  your  God  by  frequency  in 
prayer,  reading,  &c,  and  a  diligent  and 
conscionable  use  of  all  God's  sacred  ordi- 
dances,  for  by  these  God  conveys  into 
the  soul  His  Grace,  His  Spirit,  His  Di- 
vine Life :  ah !  what  is  the  whole  world's 
weight  to  one  grain  of  grace  at  the  hour 
of  Death  ?  On  Wednesday  last  I  preach- 
d  3 


114  MRS.    BASIRE. 

ed  the  funeral  of  another  of  my  Lord's 
sisters,  a  most  godly  gentlewoman.  Just 
as  I  was  commending  her  soul  unto  God, 
she  expired  most  sweetly.  Lord,  pre- 
pare us  for  that  great  passage  ! 

"  Since  my  return  from  you,  there  is 
nothing  fallen.  I  praise  God,  I  am  very 
well  content,  if  you  be  so  too  :  God's 
hand  is  not  shortened. 

'•  I  beseech  God  to  cause  His  face  to 
shine  upon  thee,  to  sanctify  us  one  for 
another,  to  prosper  our  intentions,  to 
pardon  us  all  the  vanities  incident  about 
it,  to  give  us  grace  to  go  on  in  His  most 
holy  fear,  that  if  it  be  His  good  will  and 
for  His  glory,  it  may,  in  His  good  time, 
succeed,  to  our  mutual  comfort,  and  the 
edification  of  both  our  families,  mean- 
while to  endue  us  both  with  much  pa- 
tience and  true  mortification.  But,  if  it 
be  not  His  will,  to  work  our  hearts  to 
an  humble  submission,  and  perfect  re- 
signation of  us  to  Himself.  Join  with 
me  in  this  prayer,  and  rest  assured  that 
I  am 

"  Your  most  faithful  friend,     J.  B. 

"A.  C.  March  11,  1635. 

"  My  hearty  respects  to  your  noble 
sisters." 

»  To  the  noble  M.  F.  C.     J.  H.  S. 
"  Dear  Love,  &c.  &c. 

"  Soon  after  my  return,  I  sent  a  packet 
to  Mr.  Ramsden  of  Halifax,  to  be  con- 
veyed to  you ;  I  hope  you  have  received 
it  long  since.     For  the  present,  I  praise 


MRS.    BASIRE.  115 

God  my  soul  prospers,  I  overflow  with, 
content,  I  feel  no  lack,  but  of  an  oppor- 
tunity to  approve  my  sincere  intentions 
to  you- ward,  yet  far  be  it  from  me  or 
you,  to  limit  God  and  tie  him  to  a  time  : 
rather  strive  in  your  prayers  with  me, 
for  an  holy  submission  to  His  gracious 
providence,  about  the  manner,  means, 
time,  place  ;  in  a  word,  all  the  circum- 
stances of  our  preferment.  He  is  a  very 
good  God,  and  knows  what  is  best  for 
all  His  children  ;  only,  be  sure  you 
be  one  of  them,  by  constant  and  patient 
obedience,  and  mark  the  end  of  it  at 
last. 

"  Read  but  David's  37th  Psalm,  and  yo*s. 
•cannot,  (if  you  but  throw  yourself  into 
His  arms,)  but  lie  quietly  in  his  lap. 
Fail  not,  I  pray  you,  to  write  to  me 
when  you  can  :  God  be  gracious  unto 
you,  and  lead  you  by  the  hand  through 
all  the  passages  of  your  life,  so  prays 
"  Your  assured  friend  and 

"  loving  well-wisher, 

"  J.  B." 

"  From  A.  Castle,  this  25th  September^ 
1635. 

"  I  pray  remember  my  service  to  your 
two  worthy  sisters,  whom  I  wrote  unto 
at  my  last  return.  I  remember  my 
promise  to  my  sister  Mary,  and  have 
sent  about  it  a  month  ago." 

"  I  would  I  durst  present  my  humble 
service  to  your  noble  father." 

d  4 


116  MRS.    BASIRE. 

"  To  the  virtuous  Gentlewoman,  my  very 
loving  friend,  Mrs.  Frances  Corbett, 
Sfc.     J.  H.  S. 
"  Love,  &c.  &c. 

"  This  fair  opportunity  of  Mr.  "Welles 
of  Newport,  allures  me  to  write  again, 
and  write  this  to  second  a  former  letter, 
which  I  sent  this  last  week  :  see  how  I 
delight  to  talk  with  you  !  Your  books 
I  have  packed  up,  if  this  bearer  will  be 
troubled  with  them.  These  two  I  send 
you  myself  are,  1.  An  Introduction  to 
a  Devout  Life,  &c.  2.  The  Marrow  of 
the  Oracles  of  God  :  two  books  which, 
next  to  God's  own,  my  soul  hath  been 
much  taken  with.  The  first  was  made 
by  a  French  bishop,  yet  is  the  book  free 
from  popery,  (for  I  have  read  it  afore- 
hand  for  your  soul's  sake,)  only  where 
you  see  a  cross  at  the  margin,  there  it 
may  be  mistaken  by  some  ;  else,  all  is 
safe.  The  third  little  book,  called  an 
Abridgment,  &c,  is  Mr.  Johnson's  gift; 
which  he  would  have  sent  better  bountl, 
but  that  here  at  Durham,  in  this  time  of 
sickness,  the  bookbinder  had  no  gold, 
&c.  He  commends  his  hearty  love  unto 
you.  They  are  choice  books,  all  three  ; 
and  so  they  light  on  devout  hands,  they 
are  full  of  good  inspiration.  I  have 
prayed  God  to  sanctify  the  use  of  them 
to  your  soul :  you  must  not  for  fashion 
sake,  but  read  them  with  a  full  purpose 
of  heart,  to  frame  your  life  by  their 
godly  directions  :  and  therefore  you 
must  not  deem  it  enough  to  read  them 


MRS.    BASIRE.  117 

once  over  only,  but  once  or  twice  over 
yearly,  till  you  have  turned  them  into 
you/  ordinary  practice.  Such  precious 
books,  if  you  throw  them  by,  may  rise 
up  in  judgment  against  you.  The  first 
of  them,  (and  so  were  those  of  your  sis- 
ter's,) were  bound  by  those  devout  vir- 
gins I  once  told  yon  of:  who  knows  but 
the  prayers  they  might  bestow  at  the 
binding,  may  do  you  good  at  the  reading 
of  them.  Yet  the  insides  are  the  thing 
I  sent  them  to  you  for,  more  than  the 
outsides.  God  (according  to  their  several 
titles)  make  your  life  devout,  fill  your 
soul  full  of  the  marrow  of  His  graces? 
and  evermore  direct  you  in  the  constant 
practice  of  Christianity  :  so  prays  from 
the  bottom  of  his  soul, 

"  Your  ever-loving  friend, 

M  J.  B." 

"From  D.  C.  this  lQth  of  August,  1636. 
"  I  wonder  still  at  your  sisters,  espe- 
cially your  sister  Mary,  (such  is  her 
goodnature,)  that  they  have  quite  for- 
gotten me." 

These  letters  are  selected  from  several 
in  the  same  strain,  published  with  the 
rest  of  Dr.  Basire's  correspondence,  by 
the  Rev.  W.  N.  Darnell,  from  whence 
nearly  all  the  facts  relating  toDr.Basire 
and  his  wife,  have  been  collected.  In 
the  year  1636,  he  received  the  degree 
of  Bachelor  of  Divinity  at  Cambridge, 
and  was  appointed  by  the  University  to 
d  5 


118  MRS.    BASIRE. 

be  one  of  their  twelve  preachers  through- 
out England  and  Ireland.  Before  the 
end  of  the  year,  Bishop  Morton  gave 
him  the  living  of  Eaglescliff  or  Eggles- 
cliff,  in  the  county  of  Durham,  then  re- 
ported to  be  worth  <£240  a  year. 

In  1637  he  took  up  his  abode  in  his 
new  home,  and  his  marriage  took  place, 
either  in  this  or  the  previous  year,  but 
no  record  of  it  is  contained  in  the  letters 
addressed  to  him  at  this  time  by  his 
learned  friends.  They  congratulate  him 
on  his  preferment,  and  after  a  time  kind 
messages  of  remembrance  to  his  wife 
appear  in  their  letters. 

"  Remember  me,  in  the  most  friendly 
way,  to  your  Priscilla  and  my  Phebe," 
is  the  expression  of  his  friend  Nathaniel 
Ward,  in  September,  1642.  These  years 
seem  to  have  been  passed  by  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Basire,  in  the  quiet  enjoyment  of 
their  home,  and  intercourse  with  their 
friends,  by  visits  and  letters.  Four 
children  were  born  during  their  abode 
at  Eaglescliff,  of  whom  Isaac,  the  eldest, 
was  sent  at  a  very  early  age  to  West- 
minster School,  to  be  educated  by  Dr. 
Busby,  one  of  the  most  intimate  and 
constant  of  his  father's  friends.  They 
corresponded  frequently,  and  Dr.  Busby 
wrote  also  with  cordial  affection  to  Mrs. 
Basire,  as  appears  from  the  following 
letter  : 


MRS.    BASIRE.  119 

"  To  my  worthily  esteemed  and   much 
honoured  friend,  Mrs.  Basire. 

"  Most  virtuous  and  truly  beloved 
in  Christ  Jesu, 

"  Your  friendly  acceptance  of  my  re- 
spects, to  your  husband,  self  or  child, 
doth  oblige  me  faithfully  to  perform 
them.  And  I  could  wish  that  my  for- 
tunes were  as  ample  as  your  merits,  that 
I  might  not  be  defective  in  my  expres- 
sions, no  more  than  in  my  desires,  of 
entertaining  yours  and  my  dearly  be- 
loved. For  which  my  hearty  and  affec- 
tionate regard,  I  am  abundantly  repaid 
in  the  holy  and  learned  conversation  of 
him :  and  it  is  in  your  power  to  make 
me  eternally  obliged  to  your  family,  if 
you  shall  be  pleased  to  trouble  your 
memory  with  my  unworthy  self,  and  to 
recommend  so  heinous  an  offender  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  Christ  Jesus,  by  your 
daily  and  frequent  prayers.  Thus  shall 
I  make  a  happy  change  ;  and  for  my 
poor  corporal  refreshments  of  your  hus- 
band, I  shall  receive  back  your  invalua- 
ble spiritual  comforts,  for  so  in  some  re- 
gard I  shall  esteem  them  yours,  knowing 
that  the  prayers  of  the  faithful  avail 
much. 

"  I  should  solicitously  desire  this  fa- 
vour from  you,  but  that  I  believe  your 
Christian  gentleness,  without  any  im- 
portunity, will  out  of  pity  do  this  pious 
courtesy  :  and  for  it  you  will  have  some 
return  of  vour  charity  into  your  own 
d  6 


120  MRS.    BASIRE. 

bosom  from  God,   and  the  assured  obli- 
gation of  a  poor  sinner, 

"  Your  unworthy  friend, 

"  It.  Busby." 
"December  16,  1641." 

Whenever  Dr.  Basire  went  to  London, 
he  staid  with  Dr.  Busby  in  his  house  at 
Westminster,  and  he  was  probably  stay- 
ing there  when  this  letter  was  written, 
or  just  before  it,  for  in  the  same  month 
he  was  sworn  chaplain  extraordinary  to 
the  king. 

His  days  of  peace  and  domestic  com- 
fort were  drawing  to  a  close  ;  the  troubles 
of  the  time  increased  rapidly;  and  when, 
in  December,  1643,  he  was  collated  by 
Bishop  Morton  to  the  seventh  stall  in 
Durham,  and  in  the  August  following 
was  appointed  Archdeacon  of  Northum- 
berland, he  was  neither  able  to  perform 
the  duties  nor  receive  the  emoluments 
of  his  new  preferments.  He  is  believed 
to  have  been  in  Carlisle  during  eleven 
months  of  blockade  and  want  of  food. 

In  1645,  the  living  of  Stanhope  became 
vacant ;  and  as  Bishop  Morton,  oppressed 
and  overawed  by  the  rebels,  dared  not 
dispose  of  it,  the  king,  upon  its  lapsing 
to  the  crown,  gave  it  to  Dr.  Basire,  then 
in  attendance  upon  him  at  Oxford,  which 
appointment  the  Bishop  announced  to 
him  with  hearty  good  wishes.  In  the 
following  year  he  was  summoned  to  at- 
tend upon  the  king  in  his  office  of  chap- 
lain :  Wood  says  that  he  preached  fre- 


MRS.    BASIRE.  121 

•quently  before  the  king  and  parliament 
•at  Oxford.  In  the  course  of  this  year  or 
the  next,  he  was  seized  upon  at  Eagles- 
cliff,  and  conveyed  to  Stockton  Castle, 
after  which  he  escaped  from  his  country 
and  took  refuge  in  France,  to  seek  a 
subsistence  for  his  family,  which  he 
could  no  longer  procure  for  them  at 
home. 

Mrs.  Basire  was  left  at  EaglesclifF, 
with  her  four  children,  expecting  the 
birth  of  a  fifth,  and  trying  to  obtain  the 
allowance  promised  by  the  parliament  to 
the  wives  and  families  of  delinquent 
clergymen  ;  this  was  supposed  to  be  a 
fifth  of  their  estates  and  goods  seized  by 
act  of  parliament,  but  was  not  obtained 
without  much  trouble,  expense,  and  dis- 
appointment. 

In  the  mean  time  her  husband  pro- 
ceeded to  Rouen,  where  he  possessed  a 
small  patrimony,  amounting  to  about  <£8 
a  year.  Here  he  was  joined  by  three 
pupils,  entrusted  to  him  by  their  rela- 
tions,— Thomas  Lambton,  whose  father, 
Sir  William,  had  fallen  in  the  king's 
service  at  Marston  Moor,  and  his  elder 
brother  at  Wakefield  ;  William  Ash- 
burnham,  the  son  of  that  gentleman  of 
the  bed-chamber  to  King  Charles,  who 
is  remembered  by  his  unfortunate  at- 
tempt to  effect  his  master's  escape  ;  and 
a  youth  named  Andrews,  also  of  a  loyal 
family. 

He  wrote  thus  from  Rouen  to  his 
wife  : 

d  7 


122  MRS.    BASIRE. 

"  To  my  very  loving  friend,  Mrs.  Fran- 
ces Basire. 

"  Leave  this  with  Eleazer  Potts,  next 
to  the  Rose  Tavern,  upon  the  Quay's 
side  in  Newcastle. — To  be  sent  to  Blax- 
ton." 

"  Jesu ! 
"  My  dear  yokefellow, 

11  Your  pair  of  letters  of  the  eighth  of 
March,  I  did  receive  the  fifth  of  April. 
I  am  weary  of  writing  so  often  to  Mr. 
Davison,  from  whom,  for  all  my  letters, 
I  have  not  received  one  line  of  answer, 
and  so  send  him  word.  If  the  lady  send 
her  son,  she  may  be  assured  of  my  spe- 
cial care  in  his  education.  Scholars 
liere  I  have  none  at  all,  nor  am  likely, 
the  English  are  so  low  brought  for 
means.  May  God  hear  your  wish,  and 
in  his  good  time  restore  us  to  each  other ! 
If  not,  God  prepare  and  strengthen  us, 
still  even  unto  death,  rather  than  for- 
swear and  betray  the  truth,  and  then 
live  still  miserable  and  infamous  too.  I 
have  not  yet  received  one  farthing  out 
of  my  estate  ;  so  that  all  I  can  do  for  you 
at  present,  is  heartily  to  pray  for  your 
good  speed  about  your  fifth, ...and  about 
every  thing  you  take  in  hand,  especially 
about  your  safe  delivery,  which  by  me 
and  others  hath  been  recommended  to 
God  in  extraordinary,  above  these  three 
weeks  ;  and  shall  be  so,  till  you  bless 
me  with  the  joyful  news  of  it.  Thanks 
to  Mistress  Garnet  for  the  continuance 
of  her  care. 


MRS.    BASIRE.  123 

"  In  my  last  letter  to  you  of  the 
eleventh  of  March,  I  did  enclose  four, 
viz.,  to  my  Lady  Blaxton,  to  Mistress 
Garnet,  to  her  brother,  and  to  Mr.  Da 
vison  again.  Make  your  letters  as  thin 
as  you  can,  for  cost  of  carriage  to  my 
friends,  and  superscribe  them  only  to 
♦my  very  loving  friend,  Dr.  Basire,' 
sending  them  to  Mr.  Cole,  or  Sir  Peter 
Richaut.  The  Lord  judge  betwixt  you 
and  Bushell,  for  I  know  no  other  way. 
God  continue  his  blessings  of  health,  to 
you,  my  children,  and  my  friends.  Mr. 
Anderson,  honest  man,  remembers  you 
with  care  for  you.  Till  I  hear  from  you, 
I  will  write  to  you  every  week  once, 
only  to  please  you.  Whenever  your 
time  of  travail  be,  I  shall  be  sure  some 
time  that  day  to  be  with  you  in  the 
spirit,  though  absent  in  body.  I  will 
write  to  my  brother  Watts,  as  I  have 
already  done  to  my  dear  friend  Busby, 
from  whom  I  did  receive  lately  a  most 
kind  letter.  When  you  send  to  him, 
thank  him  for  it.  Finally,  my  dearest, 
pray  for  God's  grace  and  blessing  upon 
me  ;  and,  in  all  your  straits,  look  up  to 
God's  providence  and  promise,  six  times 
reiterated  in  the  Bible,  that  He  will 
never  fail  you  nor  forsake  you ;  the  daily 
prayer  of 

"  Your  very  loving  husband, 

J.  B. 

"  Rouen,  April  8,  1647." 

b  8 


124  MRS.    BASIRKV 

"  To   my   very  loving  friend.   Mistress 
Frances  Basire.    Send  this  to  Mr.  Da- 
vison, in  the  county  of  Durham. 
"  Jesu  ! 
"  Ah,  my  dearest, 

m  What  a  cross  is  this  to  me,  that  in 
five  weeks'  space  I  cannot  obtain  one 
line  from  you ;  what,  are  you  now  be- 
come a  worse  wife,  than  you  once  were 
a  loving  mistress  ?  Know  you  not  that, 
under  God,  your  life  and  health  is  my 
only  comfort  ?  By  Sir  Nicholas  Cole  at 
London,  I  could  easily  hear  from  you 
once  a  fortnight  at  least.  I  pray,  as  you 
loved  me  once,  bless  me  speedily  with 
the  longed-for  good  news  of  your  own 
safe  delivery,  and  of  my  good  Lady 
Blaxton's  welfare,  and  of  all  our  good 
friends  ;  as  for  me,  my  landlord  is  going 
to  live  with  his  son  in  Holland,  I  have 
been  fain  to  remove  my  quarters.  Here 
I  am ;  (not  in  Rouen,  but  as  near  it  as 
Yarum  is  to  little  Eaglescliff;)  my 
chamber  lies  me  in  seven  or  eight  shil- 
lings a  month  :  yea,  I  have  a  whole  little 
summer-house  to  myself  alone  :  only 
once  or  twice  a  day,  a  little  boy  waits 
on  me  for  necessaries  ;  my  little  house 
is  within  a  garden,  the  most  pleasant 
place  that  ever  I  lived  in,  if  I  had  but 
your  own  sweet  self  in  it  with  me.  I 
make  shift  to  live,  God  be  thanked,  as 
yet — I  told  you  how,  by  the  unexpected 
relief  sent  me  from  London,  by  a  good 
friend  of  yours  and  mine,  that  must  be 
nameless.      I  continue   still  constant  in 


MRS.    BASIRE.  125 

my  old  way,  for  which  constancy  I  suf- 
fer almost  as  much  persecution  here 
amongst  mine  own,  and  by  mine  own, 
as  I  might  have  suffered  in  England. 
But  our  good  God  strengthens  me  and 
comforts  me,  and  do  you  so  too  by  your 
good  letters  and  devout  prayers  for, 
"  Yours  more  than  ever, 

"  B.  J. 
11  Rouen,  this  4th  of  June,  1647." 

44  Ah,  how  sad  was  I,  when  I  heard 
that  Captain  Garnet  had  compounded 
now  at  last,  notwithstanding  his  good 
resolutions  to  the  contrary  !" 

He  seems  in  his  letter,  to  allude  to  his 
being  persecuted  by  his  friends  and  re- 
lations among  the  French  Protestants. 
At  a  later  period  he  acted  as  their  min- 
ister at  Pera,  where  he  officiated  accord- 
ing to  the  Liturgy  of  the  Church  of 
England,  and  received  a  stipend  for  his 
services,  though  in  some  doubt  whether 
they  44  would  long  suffer  him  to  go  on  in 
the  wa}'-,"  out  of  which,  he  said,  44  God 
willing,  I  am  resolved  not  to  depart, 
though  for  it  I  lose  this,  as  I  have  lost 
all."  His  English  friends  did  not  forget 
him  in  this  time  of  trouble  ;  he  received 
letters  of  cordial  affection  and  earnest 
entreaty  for  the  benefit  of  his  prayers, 
from  Dr.  Busby,  and  from  Sir  George 
RadclifFe,  the  last  of  whom  also  consult- 
ed him  on  the  controversy  with  Rome, 
and  the  possible  hope  of  re-union. 

A  gleam  of  comfort  with  regard  to  af- 
d  9 


126  MRS.    BASIRE. 

fairs  in  England,  appears  in  a  short  Tes- 
ter from  Sir  Edward  Nicholas,  who 
writes  in  July,  1647  :  I  hope  it  will  not 
now  be  long  before  we  hear  that  peace 
in  England  is  in  so  good  forwardness,  as 
that  honest  men  may  return  with  com- 
fort to  their  homes.  Dr.  Hammond 
preached  on  Sunday  se'nnight  at  Hat- 
field, before  the  king,  where  service  was 
said  according  to  the  English  Liturgy." 
But  this  hope  was  of  short  duration. 

On  the  27th  of  August,  .Dr.  Basire 
set  out  upon  his  travels,  accompanied  by 
his  pupils.  They  waited  on  the  Queen 
Henrietta  and  the  Prince  at  St.  Ger- 
mains,  and  on  Christmas  Day,  attended 
Divine  service  at  the  chapel  of  Sir  Ri- 
chard Browne's  house,  who.  being  the 
king's  agent,  continued  there  the  offices 
of  the  English  Church.  Dr.  Basire 
wrote  thus  from  Paris  : 

"  To    my  very   good  friend,    Mistress- 
Frances  Basire,  at  Eaglescliff,  near 
Yarm.     Leave  this  at  Blaxton. 
"  Jesu! 
"  My  dear  Heart, 

The  further  we  remove  into  France, 
the  seldomer  you  are  like  to  hear  from 
me  :  and  therefore  be  not  troubled,  but 
rather  pray  and  hope  the  better.  Direct 
your  letters  hereafter  thus  :  "  a  Monsieur 
Basire  par  l'addresse  de  Monsieur  Mey, 
a.  Rouen."  I  live  now  at  Paris  this 
winter,  and  then  in  the  spring  better  go 
towards  Italy,  than  towards  Newgate.  I 


MRS.    BASIRE.  127 

have  more  than  once  appointed  you  to 
receive  ten  pounds  from  my  Lady  Lamb- 
ton,  which  I  have  laid  out  of  my  purse 
for  her  son,  who  hath  written  to  her 
about  it.  My  Lady  Radcliffe  joyed  me 
by  telling  me,  you  looked  very  well  on 
it.  Do  so  still,  till  I  see  it  myself. 
The  affairs  of  England  are  still  too  much 
troubled  for  me  or  honest  men  to  fish  in 
it  and  catch.  I  shall  shortly  thank  the 
brethren  Davisons,  and  the  ladies  at 
Hutton-panell  on  your  behalf:  recom- 
mend me  to  Sir  William  Blaxton  and 
his  Lady,  and  to  Mistress  Garnet.  God 
bless  my  children  and  all  my  friends. 
Would  to  God  I  were  near  you  to  make 
good  my  vow  at  our  marriage,  to  cherish 
you  in  sickness,  as  in  health.  But  it 
must  be  when  it  pleases  God.  Mean- 
while we  must  cheerfully  live  and  die 
asunder,  if  God  so  ordain  it,  rather  than 
the  least  ways  murmur.  But  I  hope  we 
shall  meet  not  to  part  more  till  death  : 
which  God  prepare  us  all  for,  so  prays 
"  Your  faithful  husband, 

"J.  B. 
"  From  Paris,  November  20,  1647." 

"  Mr.  Lambton  thanks  you  for  the 
care  you  have  of  him.  I  am  sure  I  have 
laid  out  above  twenty  pounds  to  furnish 
him  with  clothes  and  other  necessaries. 
Honest  Mr.  Anderson,  who  is  now  here 
with  us,  commends  him  kindly  to  you, 
and  to  Nan  and  John  Glover." 

In  the  spring  of  the  year,  1648,  Dr. 


128  MRS.    BASIRE. 

Basire  and  his  pupils  pursued  their  jour- 
ney, and  after  visiting  the  south  of 
France,  and  several  towns  of  Italy,  they 
sailed  by  Sicily  and  Malta,  and  reached 
Rome  on  February  26,  1649.  They 
were  nearly  lost  in  a  storm  off  the  coast 
of  Sicily,  to  which  he  alludes  in  one  of 
his  letters  to  his  wife,  and  of  which  he 
remarks  in  his  Journal,  *'  It  was  on  the 
same  day  and  hour,  on  which  our  once 
gracious,  now  glorious  Charles  I.  was 
martyred." 

In  another  letter  he  says, 

"  Touching  the  state  of  affairs  in 
England,  whatever  the  event  prove, 
from  the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  sole 
of  the  foot,  pray  we  still  against  all  mur- 
muring and  impatiency  (for  God's  ways 
are  not  as  our  wa}'s)  and  labour  we  for 
a  full  resignation  of  ourselves,  and  all 
ours  to  him :  endeavouring  a  sincere 
reformation  of  our  hearts  and  lives,  for 
God  is  very  angry  against  the  whole  na- 
tion, and  I  do  fear  a  decree.  However, 
let  us  prepare  to  meet  our  God,  and 
never  trust  in  the  arm  of  flesh,  for  all 
men  are  Scots,  and  losses  cannot  but 
make  me  sad  :  and  the  more,  because  at 
this  distance  it  cannot  be  in  my  power  or 
providence  to  help  you  much  at  present." 

"  Have  a  special  care  to  catechise  my 
children  yourself  after  the  good  old  way ; 
that  they  be  not  poisoned  with  rebel- 
lious and  schismatical  principles.  Mr. 
Ashburnham's  heavy  afflictions  about 
the  king's  persecution  may,  I  fear,  have 


MRS.    BAS1RE.  129 

obstructed  his  good  intentions  towards 
you.  Mr.  William  Ashburnbam  and 
Mr.  Lambton  present  their  service  to 
you,  and  I  to  Mr.  Garnet  (whom  God 
bless)  for  his  gallant  constancy. 

"  I  pray  set  some  time  apart  to  give 
God  solemn  thanks  for  our  extraordinary 
deliverances,  by  land  and  by  water ;  and 
to  offer  up  for  us  the  seven  Psalms  of 
Thanksgiving,  which  I  did  once  send 
you.  I  need  not  bid  you  continue  your 
prayers  for  our  good  speed  in  all  our 
travels.  Teach  our  children  to  do  the 
same,  and  God  may  hear  them. 

"  About  a  month  hence,  God  willing, 
we  remove  to  Venice  ;  and  if  you  do 
not  hear  from  me  so  oft  as  you  wish,  and 
I  shall  endeavour,  impute  it  not  to  my 
neglect,  but  to  the  sad  disasters  in  Eng- 
land, and  to  the  civil  wars  in  France* 
which  hinders  the  free  passage  of  our 
letters. 

"  To  confirm  your  faith,  increase  your 
humility,  enlarge  your  repentance,  and 
to  move  you  to  compassion  towards  your 
desolate  Church,  and  bleeding  country, 
you  shall  do  well  to  read  over  with  devo- 
tion, the  book  of  the  Lamentations." 

This  request  he  enforces  in  another 
letter,  saying,  "  God  pardon  our  sins 
and  increase  our  faith  ;  to  strengthen 
which  and  humble  us  all,  I  do  advise  all 
my  friends,  interested  in  the  English 
desolation,  to  read  the  book  of  the  La- 
mentations." 

The  minuteness  of  the  letters  written 


130  MRS.    BASIRE. 

by  him  to  his  wife,  brings  before  us 
now  a  lively  impression  of  the  reality  of 
the  times  there  spoken  of,  the  urgent 
difficulties  which  pressed  upon  the  loyal 
servants  of  their  king  and  Church,  and 
the  sacrifices  they  were  called  upon  to 
make  for  conscience'  sake.  The  sim- 
plicity with  which  he  wrote  gives  also 
an  impression  of  truth,  and  adds  weight 
to  the  expressions  of  faith  and  resigna- 
tion intermixed  with  the  hearty  assur- 
ances of  affection  to  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren. His  wife's  answers,  of  which 
none  are  preserved  earlier  than  1G51, 
have  a  like  character  of  truth  and  reali- 
ty. Their  separation  was  now  become 
wider  than  ever  :  for  when  his  pupils, 
after  completing  their  education,  had 
left  him  one  by  one,  he  set  out  upon  a 
journey  to  more  distant  countries. 

In  one  of  the  first  letters  of  hers  that 
is  preserved,  she  writes,  "  I  praise  God 
for  all  your  contentedness  to  bear  your 
crosses,  for  that  is  the  way  to  make 
them  easy  and  light  to  you,  to  consider 
from  whom  they  come,  and  how  justly 
we  deserve  them,  and  how  necessary 
they  are  for  us,  and  how  they  cannot  be 
avoided  in  this  life. 

"  My  dearest,  I  shall  not  fail  to  look 
out  those  places  in  the  Scripture,  and 
pray  for  you  as  becometh  your  obedient 
wife  and  servant  in  the  Lord, 

"J.  B." 


MRS.    BASIRE.  131 

"  a  Mons.  Mons.  de  Preaumont. 
*•  Jesu ! 
«  Eaglescliff,  8th  Feb.,  1653. 
"  My  dearest, 

"  I  praise  God  for  your  welfare,  but  I 
found  it  something  heavy  for  me  to  bear, 
your  being  so  far  from  me,  and  being  a 
whole  year  but  two  days  before  I  heard 
from  you,  which  is  your  letter  22d  of 
July,  I  have  ;  and  yours  in  May  to  me 
and  your  friends,  with  your  tokens,  are 
miscarried,  as  all  mine  to  you  are.  Now 
I  write  to  you  two  for  one,  and  send 
them  according  to  your  directions.  I 
sent  for  a  note  of  the  barrel  of  oil,  and 
of  all  the  parcels  of  currants  you  sent 
me  from  Zante  :  but  the  oil  and  the  last 
currants  were  not  of  the  best,  which 
made  them,  they  gave  not  so  much  as 
you  thought.  I  have  all  my  uncle's  let- 
ters, to  show  what  they  all  came  to,  and 
have  them  all  writ  down,  and  all  the 
moneys  I  have  had  from  you,  and  the 
twenty  pounds  you  sent  me  twelve 
months  ago,  when  you  went  for  Jerusa- 
lem. All  your  friends  here,  were  ex- 
ceedingly glad  to  hear  from  you  :  the 
Davisons,  and  Dr.  Clarke,  Mrs.  Garnet, 
Mrs.  Man,  and  hearty  Blad,  and  our  old 
servant,  Ann  Robinson,  and  all  the  rest. 
I  have  not  heard  from  our  son  Peter 
these  two  years.  I  have  writ  to  Mons. 
Roussel  very  oft,  but  cannot  hear  from 
him.  Present  my  service  and  dear  love 
to  Dr.  Duncan,  and  give  him  thanks  for 
his  cordial  letter  to  me.     I  desire  much 


132  MRS.    BASIRE. 

to  follow  his  direction.  I  shall  not  fail 
to  pray  for  your  noble  friend  Mr.  Daniel 
Pennington,  but  yet  envy  him,  that  he 
should  enjoy  that  happiness  I  want.  But 
so  that  you  are  well  and  content,  I  shall 
wholly  submit  to  God,  till  He  see  it  for 
me  to  enjoy  what  I  want.  I  thank  you 
very  kindly  for  all  your  great  and  con- 
stant love  to  me,  though  so  far  off,  and 
so  long  as  almost  seven  years.  I  do  as- 
sure you  mine  is  the  same  to  you.  For 
Isaac,  I  have  written  to  my  friend  Bus- 
by, but  have  had  no  answer.  I  have  let 
him  know  by  Mr.  Carter  that  you  have 
writ  to  him,  but  it  miscarried,  and  I  writ 
to  her  to  send  me  his  answer,  and  I 
shall  let  you  know,  and  the  time  I  have 
them  all  up  with  me,  I  shall,  God  wil- 
ling, bring  them  up  as  well  as  I  can. 
Our  daughter  Mary  is  very  serviceable 
to  me  when  I  am  not  well.  I  have  been 
very  sore  troubled  with  the  stone,  and  a 
weakness  in  the  back.  For  the  stone  I 
have  got  some  cure  ;  but  for  my  back,  I 
think  it  will  be  hard  to  get  it  cured.  I 
praise  God  I  am  very  well,  and  I  grow 
fat.  Your  delight  here  is  very  well. 
Our  four  children  here  present  their 
duty  to  you.  John  very  much  desires 
to  see  his  father,  for  he  says  he  is  gone 
so  far,  as  he  thinks  he  knows  not  the 
way  back,  or  else  he  wants  a  horse.  I 
pray  God  send  us  all  a  happy  meeting. 

"  I  am  yours  faithful  in  the  Lord, 

"J.  B." 

Whilst  Mrs.  Basire  was  thus  longing 


MRS.    BASIRE.  133 

for   news  of  her   husband,   he    suffered 
anxiety  from  not  receiving  her  letters. 

"  Jesu  ! 
"  My  dearest, 

"  If  I  were  assured  that  yourself  are 
in  as  good  health,  and  as  well  provided 
for,  you  and  our  little  ones,  as  I  myself 
(through  God's  good  Providence)  am  in 
this  place,  it  would  make  me  digest  so 
much  the  more  easily  our  so  long  forced 
absence  ;  but  not  having  received  any 
letter  from  you  this  twelvemonth, 
though  I  have  written  unto  you  not  a 
few,  that,  chiefly,  inclines  me  to  return 
into  Christendom,  that  if  I  cannot  be 
with  you,  (as  is  my  heart's  wish,)  yet  I 
may  be  nearer  you  ;  and  it  were  but  to 
express  my  respect  towards  you  and 
mine,  of  whom,  as  I  am  never  unmind- 
ful in  my  prayers,  so,  to  my  power, 
neither  have  I  been  slack  in  my  cares 
for  you.  About  this  time  twelvemonth, 
I  did  order  twenty  pounds  to  be  paid  by 
Mr.  William  Williams,  at  London,  to 
your  uncle  Pigot  for  your  use  ;  more  I 
have  not  been  able  to  do,  partly,  because 
of  my  late  voyage  to  Jerusalem,  from 
whence,  though  not  without  some  cost, 
I  am  safely  returned,  God  be  praised. 
Thither  as  I  went  to  view  the  whole 
land  of  Canaan,  the  better  to  understand 
the  Scriptures  ;  so,  without  superstition, 
to  worship  my  Saviour  in  the  very 
places  where  he  did  live  and  die  for  us 
miserable  sinners  ;  and  I  pray  God,  that 


134  MRS.    BASIRE. 

1  may  retain  those  impressions  of  devo- 
tion occasioned  by  the  sight  of  those 
places,  wherein,  you  may  be  sure,  that 
as  well  as  yourself,  as  yours,  together 
with  our  chief  friends,  were  fervently 
remembered ;  to-morrow,  God  willing, 
I  am  going  to  Antioch,  (two  days  jour- 
ney from  hence,)  where  the  disciples 
were  first  called  Christians,  as  you  may 
read,  Acts  xi.  26.  And  about  a  month 
hence,  I  do  purpose  to  leave  this  place, 
and  to  travel  towards  Constantinople, 
some  five  hundred  miles  by  land,  for 
thither  I  am  invited,  and  there  I  may 
better  expect  a  good  opportunity  to  pass 
through  Germany,  and  so  approach  near 
unto  you  ;  these  journeys  by  land,  are  as 
toilsome  as  expensive  ;  but  as  contrary 
fleets  are  now  abroad,  'tis  far  more  dan- 
gerous by  sea ;  as  for  my  good  success, 
remember  who  brought  me  hither  safe, 
and  still  trust  in  Him  for  as  safe  a  re- 
turn, no  way  dismayed  though  you  hear 
not  from  me. 

"  From  Aleppo,  20th  February,  1653." 

Wood  says  of  Dr.  Basire's  travels, 
that  he  continued  some  months  at  Alep- 
po, and  had  frequent  conversations  with 
the  Patriarch  of  Antioch.  From  thence 
he  went  to  Jerusalem,  and  received 
much  honour  there  both  from  the  Greeks 
and  Latins,  from  the  latter  of  whom  he 
procured  an  entrance  into  the  Temple  of 
the  Sepulchre,  with  the  honour  due  to  a 
priest.  After  travelling  through  Pales- 
tine, he  went  into  Mesopotamia,  and  re- 


MRS.    BASIRE.  135 

turning  again  to  Aleppo,  he  came  the 
next  spring  to  Constantinople,  having  on 
his  way  examined  the  Confessions  of 
Faith  of  the  various  Christian  Churches, 
Armenians,  Maronites,  and  others  with 
whom  he  held  intercourse. 

Whilst  residing  at  Constantinople  he 
endeavoured  to  prepare  the  way  for  a 
communion  between  the  Greek  and 
English  Churches,  with  a  reformation  of 
some  of  the  grosser  errors  of  the  Greeks. 
He  persevered  in  his  endeavours  to  make 
known  the  Catechism  of  our  Prayer- 
book,  for  having  already  translated  it 
into  Greek  and  Arabic,  he  now  caused 
it  to  be  translated  into  Turkish,  for  the 
inhabitants  of  Mesopotamia.  These 
labours  excited  the  suspicions  of  the 
Latins,  so  much  that  he  was  threatened 
with  assassination  on  his  way  from  some 
of  the  Greek  churches,  but  he  was  not 
deterred  by  these  threats  frgm  pursuing 
his  various  labours. 

Whilst  he  was  thus  occupied,  he  re- 
ceived an  invitation  from  George  Ra- 
gotzi,  Vaivode  of  Transylvania,  to  be- 
come Professor  of  Theology  in  bis  Uni- 
versity of  Alba  Julia  or  Weissemburg. 
The  Prince  accompanied  his  letter  by 
the  grant  of  an  annual  salary  of  eighteen 
hundred  Hungarian  florins,  and  a  place 
of  residence. 

Dr.  Basire  accepted  this  offer,  and 
King  Charles  II.  recommended  him  to 
the  Prince's  favour,  by  a  letter  written 
from  Cologne  in  November,  1655. 


136  MRS.    BASIRE. 

In  the  mean  time  his  wife  was  feeling 
the  pain  of  his  prolonged  absence  and 
his  distance  from  her,  while  she  dread- 
ed the  difficulties  to  be  incurred  if  she 
should  go  to  join  him. 

"  To  my  good  friend,- Dr.  Isaac  Basire, 
this  present. 

30th  May,  1654. 

"  Jesu ! 
"  My  dearest, 

"  Yours  of  the  27th  February,  1654, 
I  received  May  22,  and  that  hath  been 
all  I  have  received  from  you  since  Feb- 
ruary 20,  1653,  your  being  so  far  from 
me,  and  the  times  so  very  bad,  I  could 
not  hear  from  you,  which  made  my  ene- 
my to  threaten  me  to  stay  my  fifth  part 
till  I  proved  you  were  living  :  and  old 
Thomas  Read  began  a  suit  against  me 
for  the  debt  you  owed  him  ;  but  I  being 
advised  by  my  friends  to  answer  the 
suit,  he  was  glad  to  let  it  fall.  I  praise 
God  which  hath  enabled  me  to  go  through 
many  troubles  with  thankfulness  and 
content.  I  did  often  think  of  your  di- 
rection, and  I  and  our  children  meet  so 
much  oftener  at  the  throne  of  grace  for 
you,  which  I  find  now  by  my  own  ex- 
perience the  surest  refuge.  'The  devil 
and  the  flesh  I  know  hath  and  will  be 
busy,  but  through  God's  grace  in  me  I 
have  and  shall  overcome  them. 

"  My  Lady  Blaxton  would  often  tell 
me  of  a  saying  of  yours,  our  cross  may 
be   changed,   but    not    removed.      So 


MRS.    BASIRE.  137 

Lord,  grant  whatever  He  please  to  send 
us  for  a  cross,  we  may  under  it  go  with 
Christian  patience. 

"  The  pain  of  my  back  and  the  stone 
do  very  much  increase,  and  yet  I  keep 
fat.  I  want  white  wine  to  take  my 
powders  in  ;  here  is  none  to  be  got  that 
is  good.  I  do  heartily  praise  God  for 
your  prospering  in  your  calling,  and 
they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness 
they  shall  shine  as  stars.  We  do  ex- 
tremely want  you  and  your  brethren 
here,  for  there  are  very  many  that  are 
fallen  from  the  faith.  Things  are  very 
bad  for  the  present,  but  it  is  thought  by 
all  wise  men  they  will  be  better,  and 
then  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  your  own 
with  the  comfort  of  a  good  conscience  ; 
and  if  you  please  to  let  me  stay  here  for 
a  time  till  I  see  the  event  of  things, 
then  as  soon  as  you  send  I  shall,  with 
God's  assistance,  obey  you,  though  the 
sea  be  never  so  terrible  to  me.  Thou, 
Lord,  us  direct,  but  in  no  case  send  for 
me  suddenly,  for  I  trust  God  in  His 
providence  and  mercy  will  send  you  to 
me,  which  is  my  soul's  thirsting  desire, 
and  in  truth,  your  being  so  far  from  me 
hath  been  some  sorrow  to  me  when  I 
could  not  hear  from  you :  but  I  and  our 
children  daily  pray  for  your  prospering 
in  your  calling.  To  God  glory,  the 
comfort  and  relief  of  us  all.  The  chil- 
dren, not  knowing  any  thing,  ask  me 
when  you  will  come  home,  and  when 
they  must  go  to  see  you." 


138  MRS.    BASIRE. 

Mrs.  Basire  suffered  some  anxiety 
about  her  son  Peter,  whom  she  sent  to 
her  husband's  friend  and  kinsman,  Mr. 
Roussel,  to  be  educated  at  Rouen ; 
whilst  he  was  there,  he  suffered  both 
from  ill  health  and  from  the  ill  manage- 
ment of  a  bad  master,  with  whom  he 
had  been  placed,  and  wrote  after  some 
interval  to  his  mother,  to  relate  all  that 
had  happened  to  him,  and  ask  for  news 
of  his  family.  Mr.  Roussel  wrote  at 
the  same  time,  to  beg  to  give  up  his 
charge  of  Dr.  Basire's  affairs  abroad, 
which  had  become  too  burdensome  to 
him.  It  is  said,  that  after  Dr.  Basire's 
return  to  England,  his  son  Peter  joined 
himself  to  the  Romish  Communion,  to 
the  great  grief  of  his  parents  ;  but  this 
circumstance  is  not  mentioned  in  any  of 
the  letters  ;  his  name  does  not  appear 
with  that  of  Dr.  Basire's  other  children 
in  his  will. 

Mrs.  Basire  forwarded  to  her  husband 
the  letters  from  her  son  and  Mr.  Rous- 
sel, accompanied  by  one  of  her  own. 

"  Jesu  ! 

14th  September,  1655. 
"  My  dearest, 

"  This  month  of  September,  is  a 
whole  year  since  I  have  received  any 
letter  from  you,  your  Prince  sending  an 
agent  to  my  Lord  Protector  here,  and  I 
not  hearing  from  you  by  him,  made  me 
fear  you  were  not  with  the  Prince.  I 
did  wish  most  heartily  you  had  been  the 


MRS.    BASIRE.  139 

agent  yourself,  for  by  that  means  I 
might  have  come  to  have  seen  you.  I 
have  praised  God  for  your  safe  being 
with  the  Prince,  and  for  all  his  gracious 
favours  he  hath  been  pleased  to  bestow 
on  you.  I  and  our  children,  and  my 
good  Lady  Blaxton,  which  is  now  at 
Hutton  with  Sir  William,  and  remem- 
ber them  to  you.  We  do  constantly 
pray  for  Prince  George,  and  for  his 
Princess  Sophia,  and  young  Prince 
Francis.  I  am  very  sad  that  your  bur- 
den is  so  great  as  to  put  you  past  your 
rest,  and  do  fear  your  health.  For  God's 
sake  and  mine,  and  your  children,  un- 
dertake no  more  than  you  are  well  able 
to  go  through.  I  should  praise  our  gra- 
cious God,  that  he  may  fetch  you  over 
to  me  with  liberty  of  conscience,  and 
means  to  live  on.  I  hope  your  gracious 
Prince  will  not  let  the  burden  lie  too 
heavy  on  you,  if  you  let  him  know  it. 
Sir,  1  most  kindly  thank  you  for  your 
discreet  love  to  me,  in  not  commanding 
me  rashly  and  suddenly  out  of  England  ; 
my  determinate  will  is  to  be  obedient  to 
you,  and  to  keep  me  constant  to  my  se- 
rious resolution,  which  I  thought  I  had 
satisfied  you  in  my  two  former  letters. 
These  are  the  chief  things  I  aim  at  in 
my  stay  from  you  ;  the  hopes  of  God's 
providence  in  giving  you  your  own,  the 
placing  of  some  of  our  sons  at  Westmin- 
ster, and  settling  the  fifth  part  of  them 
and  the  payment  of  debts,  the  trial  of 
the  country,  how  it  may  agree  with  my 


140  MRS.    BASIRE. 

weak  and  sickly  body,  the  uncertainty 
of  the  country  by  reason  of  wars,  the 
remoteness  and  far  distance,  the  language 
unknown  to  me.  My  earnest  desire  is, 
that  I  may  have  one  of  ours  with  my 
friend  Busby,  which  I  could  not  have 
all  this  time  for  want  of  a  certain  allow- 
ance from  you,  being  almost  four  years, 
and  receiving  but  twenty-two  pound 
from  you,  it  hath  gone  very  hard  with 
me,  I  having  the  fifth  part  of  nothing 
but  the  Parsonage  [meaning  Living]  of 
Eaglescliff,  and  paying  all  cesses  and 
billet  [billeting  soldiers]  out  of  it.  I 
could  not  spare  twelve  pound  a  year 
out  of  it,  and  durst  not  venture  to  send 
him  upon  uncertainties,  lest  he  should 
be  displeased  as  Mons.  Roussel." 

"  For  Dr.  Basire,   at  his  house,  Alba 
Julia,  in  Transylvania" 
"  Jesu! 
"  Eaglescliff,  24th  January,  1656. 
"  My  dearest, 

"  I  have  received  your  three  letters, 
since  your  safe  arrival  to  the  Prince  of 
Transylvania's  court,  and  the  five  and 
fifty  pounds  sterling.  I  and  our  chil- 
dren, do  daily  pray  for  your  Prince  and 
his  Princess  Sophia,  and  the  young 
Prince  Francis.  I  will,  through  God's 
help,  as  soon  as  you  sent  to  my  uncle 
Pigot  the  hundred  pound,  and  that  I  can 
order  my  affairs  here,  to  make  myself 
and  our  three  children  ready,  which  I 
intend  to  take  with  me.     Mary  must  be 


MRS.    BASIRE.  141 

one  that  I  must  bring  with  me  ;  she  is 
so  serviceable  to  me,  that  I  can  in  no 
cases  want  her ;  and  I  not  knowing  of 
any  maid  or  companion,  or  man,  as  yet 
fit  to  come  with  me  :  Peter  and  Charles, 
1  intend,  God  willing,  to  bring  with  me, 
and  John  to  live  at  Eaglescliff  with  our 
friends,  and  Isaac  with  Mr.  Busby.  I 
know  I  shall  have  all  those  old  debtors 
about  me  when  they  know  I  am  to  go, 
but  I  must,  with  the  best  advice  and 
wisdom  I  can  get,  to  quiet  them,  and 
to  part   with   somewhat,   to   them  that 

stand  in  the  most  need.     I  shall  have 

care  with  the  advice  of  my  best  friends, 
about  your  delight  to  bring  safe  with 
me,  and  such  of  my  household  stuff  as  is 
fit.  About  June  or  July,  I  shall,  God 
willing,  obey  you  and  your  prince's  de- 
sire, in  leaving  my  own  native  country, 
kindred,  and  friends,  in  coming  to  you. 
You  must  needs  think  it  will  be  some 
grief  to  me  at  present,  but  I  trust  in  God 
and  you,  which  will  be  able  to  supply 
the  want  of  all.  Sir  William  Blaxton, 
his  good  lady,  Mr.  Garnet,  and  the  Da- 
visons  are  all  well,  but  sad  to  part  with 
us  from  hence.  I  shall  not  forget  the 
sadness  of  my  Lady  Blaxton's  counten- 
ance, when  I  told  her  you  had  sent  for 
me.  God  Almighty  reward  her  and  Sir 
William  for  all  their  love  to  us.  Mary 
is  now  with  her.  I  shall  beg  counsel  of 
God,  and  take  advice  of  my  best  friends, 
concerning  all  my  affairs  here.  Two  of 
our  sons  must  be  left  in  England,  or  they 


142  MRS.    BASIRE. 

can  have  no  fifth  part.  Mons.  Roussel 
hath  writ  to  me  again,  and  I  have  writ. 
I  have  sent  his  letters  to  you,  and  have 
not  yet  had  your  answer  ;  but  I  have 
writ  to  him,  to  entreat  his  care  of  Peter, 
and  that  I  intend  at  spring  when  I  come 
to  London,  to  send  for  him,  and  to  let 
him  know  what  condition  you  are  in, 
and  that  it  is  your  desire  to  have  him 
come  with  me  :  and  though  for  the  pres- 
ent, you  were  not  able  to  satisfy  his 
bills,  because  of  our  present  expenses,* 
yet  as  soon  as  we  can,  we  would  with  all 
thankfulness.  I  have  writ  to  Peter,  and 
now,  my  dearest,  I  entreat  your  prayers 
for  me  and  our  little  ones.  I  intend, 
God  willing,  to  be  constant  in  my  reso- 
lution to  come  to  you,  without  I  shall 
have  just  occasions  to  see  you  here,  or 
some  great  danger  in  my  passage  as  I 
know  not  of.  Our  children  and  friends 
are  all  well,  and  desire  your  blessing.  I 
shall  ever  remain, 

Yours  faithfully  in  the  Lord, 

"J.  B." 

After  this  date  there  are  no  letters 
preserved  from  Mrs.  Basire  for  several 
following  years,  nor  does  it  appear  what 
cause  prevented  her  from  going  to  join 
her  husband  in  Transylvania.  She  is 
mentioned  in  a  letter  addressed  by  him 
to  Sir  Edward  Hyde  two  years  after- 
wards. 

He  had  not  retired  beyond  the  reach 
of  troubles  when  he  took  up  his  abode  in 


MRS.    BASIRE.  143 

Transylvania.  The  country  was  over- 
run by  the  Turks  ;  and  Dr.  Basire,  who 
was  much  trusted  by  Prince  Ragotzki, 
wrote  several  letters  urging  him  either 
to  defend  his  people  with  courage,  or  to 
resign  the  government.  About  the  time 
when  the  troubles  in  England  found  their 
termination,  those  of  Transylvania  at- 
tained their  height ;  Ragotzki  was  killed 
in  battle,  and  Dr.  Basire  was  detained 
by  the  entreaties  of  his  widow  to  attend 
to  the  care  of  his  funeral,  and  continue 
his  instructions  to  her  son.  For  these 
objects  he  remained  another  year  in 
Transylvania ;  and  then,  longing  to  re- 
turn to  his  own  country,  he  left  behind 
him  many  of  his  goods  which  he  could 
not  recover,  and  hastened  to  England. 
From  the  time  of  his  return  he  appears 
to  have  lived  peacefully  and  prosper- 
ously ;  he  was  restored  to  all  his  prefer- 
ments, and  much  employed  in  the  busi- 
ness of  the  diocese.  He  was  able  to  give 
his  sons  a  good  education ;  Isaac,  the 
eldest,  who  took  orders,  and  assisted 
him  in  his  duties  as  Archdeacon,  married 
Lady  Elizabeth  Burton,  a  relation,  as 
it  appears,  of  Bishop  Cosin's  family  ; 
Charles  also  became  a  clergyman  ;  Mary, 
his  only  daughter,  married  Jeremy  Nel- 
son, a  Prebendary  of  Carlisle.  Of  Mrs. 
Basire  no  more  is  known,  except  that 
her  husband  speaks  of  her  as  receiving 
Lady  Blaxton  as  a  welcome  guest,  who 
had  so  often  been  mentioned  as  a  friend 
in  the  time  of  their  distress.     In  other 


144  LADY    MART    WHARTON. 

letters  he  laments  her  ill  health.  She 
died  in  July,  1676,  and  he  only  survived 
her  till  the  November  following.  In  his 
will  he  declared  the  same  attachment  to 
the  English  Church  which  he  had  shown 
by  word  and  action  through  his  whole 
life,  saying,  that  after  a  serious  survey 
of  most  Christian  Churches,  both  East- 
ern and  Western,  he  'has  not  found  its 
equal,  both  for  doctrine  and  discipline. 
He  desired  to  be  buried,  not  in  the  Ca- 
thedral, but  in  the  churchyard,  where 
he  was  accordingly  laid,  near  an  old  ser- 
vant, and  left  legacies  to  the  choir  of 
Durham  Cathedral,  to  the  poor  of  that 
town,  and  of  Stanhope,  Eaglescliff,  and 
Howick.  So  much  of  his  history  has 
been  told,  because  that  of  his  wife  is  in- 
cluded in  it,  and  that  except  as  his  de- 
voted wife,  she  has  no  memorial. 


LADY  MARY  WHARTON. 

Lady  Mary  Wharton  was  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Henry  Carey,  Earl  of  Dover, 
and  her  mother  was  of  the  ancient  family 
of  the  Pelhams ;  she  was  born  Novem- 
ber, 1615;  and  having  early  lost  her 
mother,  she  succeeded  to  the  charge  of 
her  three  sisters,  the  eldest  of  whom  was 
seven  years  younger  than  herself.  Her 
diligence  in  fulfilling  this  charge  was 
proved  "  by  their  early  proficiency  in 
all  virtue,  and  gracious  imitation  of  so 
fair  a  copy." 


LADY    MARY    WHARTON.  145 

She  began  without  delay  to  perform 
her  baptismal  vow,  finding  those  vanities 
in  which  her  equals  often  took  delight, 
only  a  burden  and  grievance.  When 
she  grew  to  years  of  discretion,  she  was 
beloved  by  all  those  of  her  acquaintance, 
who  had  devoted  themselves  to  the  fear 
of  God,  and  who  therefore  were  most 
dear  to  her. 

She  was  in  the  thirtieth  year  of  her 
age  before  she  gave  way  to  any  proposal 
of  marriage,  but  at  that  time  she  received 
one  from  Sir  Thomas  Wharton,  "who 
being  allied  to  her  family  and  well  ac- 
quainted with  it,  took  so  much  notice  of 
her  virtues  and  gracious  conversation,  as 
gave  him  occasion  to  move  her  in  order 
to  marriage.  Which  motion  she  em- 
braced on  serious  consideration,  and  on 
condition  of  her  father's  consent,  and 
that  of  her  uncle  Sir  Thomas  Pelham, 
whom  she  loved  as  a  second  father." 
Her  uncle's  consent  was  first  asked,  as 
he  was  at  hand,  which  he  gave  cheer- 
fully ;  "  her  father  was  then  at  Oxford 
with  the  king,  and  his  whole  estate  un- 
der sequestration,  nor  had  she  any  far- 
ther expectation  from  him  of  any  in- 
crease of  that  portion  which  was  long 
before  in  her  own  hands  and  disposal ; 
yet  would  she  not  marry  till  his  assured 
consent  was  gained  to  her  full  satisfac- 
faction,  which  he  signified  by  divers 
letters  from  Oxford,  wherein  he  declared 
that  he  was  assured  Sir  Thomas  would 
prove  honest  and    kind,   and  that  his 


146  LADY    MART    WHARTON. 

blessing  should  accompany  them  in  their 
marriage." 

It  appears  from  Clarendon,  that  whilst 
Lord  Dover  fought  at  Edgehill  on  the 
king's  side,  his  son  Lord  Rochfort  was 
on  the  opposite  part,  and  that  Philip 
Lord  Wharton,  the  elder  brother  of  the 
loyal  Sir  Thomas,  was  deeply  engaged 
with  the  rebels ;  but  whatever  differ- 
ences Lady  Mary  may  have  witnessed 
in  her  own  and  her  husband's  family, 
her  marriage  was  one  of  unvarying  hap- 
piness and  union,  and  of  steadfast  per- 
severance in  the  principles  of  her  early 
life. 

She  was  never  tainted  with  novel 
opinions  and  fancies,  but  well  acquainted 
with,  and  tenacious  of  the  form  of  sound 
words  contained  in  the  Holy  Scripture, 
and  as  they  are  taught  in  the  Church  of 
England,  whereof  she  was  a  true  and 
dutiful  child,  and  was  never  moved  by 
any  arguments,  with  which  members  of 
the  Church  of  Rome  endeavoured  to 
make  an  impression  upon  her. 

She  studied  the  Scriptures,  and  copied 
largely  from  them  for  her  own  use,  in- 
creasing her  knowledge  by  the  writings 
of  the  best  divines ;  and  "  when  she 
would  recreate  her  mind  with  any  pleas- 
ant discourse,  besides  her  reading  of  se- 
rious history,  she  took  great  delight  in 
reading  Mr.  Herbert's  verses,  most  of 
which  she  could  repeat  without  book. 
Besides  her  diligent  and  unwearied  read- 
ng,  (which  was  not  only  part  of  her 


LADY    MART    WHARTON,  147 

closet  work,  but  usually  her  afternoon's 
employment,  when  not  hindered  by  com- 
pany, or  not  exercised  in  needlework, 
for  she  was  never  idle,)  she  constantly 
observed  her  designed  and  stated  time 
for  secret  prayer  ;  in  which,  if  she  were 
at  any  time  hindered  by  entertainment 
of  friends,  &c,  yet  would  she  redeem 
time  even  from  her  sleep,  rather  than 
shorten  her  accustomed  devotions." 

She  once  heard  a  sermon  by  Mr.  John 
Hudson,  afterwards  bishop  of  Elphin, 
upon  1  Sam.  i.  27  :  "  For  this  child  I 
prayed,"  &c.  ;  where  he  observed,  that 
mercies  and  blessings  obtained  by  prayer 
will  be  sweet,  and  that  we  should  espe- 
cially record  special  mercies.  She  from 
that  time  resolved  to  keep  a  record  of 
such  special  mercies  as  should  be  vouch- 
safed to  her,  especially  such  as  were 
given  after  prayer  ;  and  in  those  papers 
where  they  were  found  recorded,  she 
makes  this  prayer  : 

"  O  my  God,  I  desire  now  to  come 
before  Thee,  humbled  in  my  soul  for  my 
own  baseness  and  filthiness  from  head 
to  foot :  every  member  of  my  body  be- 
ing ready  and  inclined  to  every  sin  ; 
every  faculty  of  my  soul  being  polluted 
and  defiled  with  that  foul  and  ugly  sin, 
wherein  I  was  conceived  and  born.  And 
to  aggravate  this,  having  received,  and 
still  possessing  more  mercies  and  gra- 
cious dispensations  from  Thee,  than  (I 
think)  ever  any  creature  had.  But  it  is 
Thy  free  grace,  who  canst  as  well  give 
e  2 


148  LADY    MART    WHARTON. 

me  a  thankful  heart  as  a  receiving  hand  : 
which  I  beg  for  His  sake,  upon  whose 
account  only  I  come  before  Thee,  and 
have  this  confidence  to  approach  unto 
Thee.  And  here,  O  Lord,  through 
Thine  assistance  I  desire  to  recount,  as 
I  am  able,  some  of  those  innumerable 
mercies  that  I  daily  receive." 

Then  after  an  enumeration  of  many 
general  mercies,  she  thus  proceeds  : 

"  Good  God,  give  me  Thy  grace  like- 
wise, that  all  this  Thy  goodness  may  not 
be  in  vain  upon  my  poor  soul.  I  bless 
Thy  name  for  the  gracious  presence  of 
Thy  blessed  Spirit  at  all  times,  when  I 
set  myself  before  Thee  in  earnest,  to 
seek  Thy  face  and  favour  in  private ; 
and  especially  at  a  fast  I  kept,  and  sacra- 
ment I  received,  when  I  was  left  all 
alone  at  Woborn,  when  I  received  much 
comfort,"  &c. 

M  Then  again  reckoning  up  many  par- 
ticular mercies  received  at  the  Lord's 
hand  upon  her  prayers  to  Him,  for  her 
husband  and  her  son  ;  amongst  which 
she  forgets  not  affectionately  to  mention 
the  good  means  of  grace  and  salvation 
they  had  lived  under,  and  the  contented, 
peaceable,  plentiful,  cheerful  condition 
they  had  enjoyed  ever  since  they  cs&ne 
together.  '  But  these  (saith  she)  are 
but  one  of  thousands  that  I  have  and  do 
enjoy.  O  give  me  to  live  in  some 
measure  answerable  to  this  goodness  of 
Thine,'  "  &c. 

After  this  manner  she  recorded  the 


LADY    MART    WHARTON.  149 

many  special  mercies,  deliverances,  and 
blessings,  which  she,  her  husband,  son 
and  family  had  received,  noting  the  day 
and  month  of  the  year.  And  the  whole 
contexture  is  in  the  same  tenour  of  prayer 
and  praises,  ever  desiring  of  the  Lord, 
that  he  wotild  give  her  to  live  the  life  of 
faith  and  thanksgiving,  which  was  her 
frequent  expression.  But  the  particular 
mercies  conferred  upon  herself  and  her 
relations,  were  not  the  only  subjects  of 
her  thankful  praises.  From  her  affection 
to  the  Church  of  God,  and  to  her  dear 
native  country,  she  also  recorded  in  her 
secret  devotions  public  blessings,  parti- 
cularly that  of  the  king's  restoration. 

She  was  so  much  affected  by  the 
thought  of  God's  loving  kindness  to  her, 
that  she  could  not  forbear  to  speak  of  it 
in  her  private  discourses  with  her  friends. 
She  would  often* do  this  in  conversing 
with  Mr.  Watkinson,  who  came  to  the 
rectory  of  Edlington  in  Yorkshire,  whilst 
she  was  living  there.  Upon  her  first 
acquaintance,  when  he  was  but  newly 
settled  in  the  rectory,  she  said  one  day 
whilst  alone  with  him,  •  Sir,  God  hath 
sent  you  hither  to  take  care  of  our  souls  ; 
therefore  I  entreat  you,  that  you  would 
not  spare  faithfully  to  reprove  whatever 
you  shall  see  amiss  in  me."  He  resolved, 
upon  this  encouragement,  to  deal  freely 
with  her  if  occasion  offered  ;  but  he 
observed  such  an  uniform  regard  to  duty 
and  care  of  her  deportment  at  all  times, 
and  towards  all  persons,  that,  during  the 
e  a 


150  LADT    MARY    WHARTON. 

rest  of  her  life,  lie  could  find  nothing  in 
her  worthy  of  reproof. 

In  religious  conversations,  the  part 
which  she  usually  bore,  was  of  asking 
questions. on  such  points  as  she  desired 
to  be  further  informed  in,  uwith  some 
affectionate  expressions  acquiring  self- 
application,  and  that  seldom  (if  ever) 
without  contrite  tears.  Her  humble  and 
contrite  spirit  would  ever  judge  herself 
unworthy  of  offered  comfort ;  yet  would 
earnestly  listen  to  it,  desiring  \vith  Da- 
vid to  hear  the  voice  of  joy  and  gladness, 
admiring  it,  and  not  wilfully  rejecting 
what  she  was  urged  to  receive  ;  en- 
tertaining each  argument  with  joyful 
tears,  which  might  give  her  any  as- 
surance or  hope  of  divine  favour  through 
Christ, — on  whose  merits  alone  she 
wholly  relied, — trampling  under  foot  all 
conceit  of  any  worth  of  her  own  right- 
eousness." 

She  would  often,  with  tears  of  joy, 
express  "her  deep  apprehension  of  God's 
gracious  providence,  in  their  outward 
prosperity,  beyond  her  hopes  ;  admiring 
His  blessings,  according  to  His  holy 
promise,  heaped  upon  them  she  knew 
not  how ;  owning  his  hand,  and  disown- 
ing all  their  own  care  and  endeavour,  as 
of  no  signification  in  reference  to  the 
greatness  of  (even  outward)  mercies  re- 
ceived." 

Mr.  Watkinson,  in  describing  her 
character,  goes  through  all  the  parts  of 
it  in  relation  to  her  duty  towards  God 


LADY    MART    WHARTON.  151 

and  towards  man,  but  to  follow  him 
through  these  would  only  be  to  repeat 
such  characteristics  as  have  been  already 
described  in  formerinstances.  Sincerity, 
modesty,  simplicity  in  dress,  temperance 
in  food,  hospitality,  diligence,  charity, 
evenness  of  temper,  willingness  to  ask 
pardon,  attendance  at  public  worship, 
attention  to  Sermons,  reverence  to  the 
ministers  of  God,  and  to  His  Holy  Sac- 
raments, so  that  whenever  an  infant  was 
baptized,  she  rejoiced  in  seeing  its  ad- 
mission to  Christ's  Church,  and  joining 
in  prayer  with  the  congregation ;  nor 
would  she  lose  one  opportunity  of  re- 
ceiving the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  when  (at  the  Feast  of  Easter) 
it  was  more  frequently  administered. 

The  last  time  she  ever  received  this 
Holy  Sacrament  was  on  June  9th,  1672, 
on  which  occasion  she  came  out  of  the 
house  after  being  long  confined  to  it  by 
want  of  strength,  and  from  this  time  she 
never  left  the  house  again.  She  had  once 
received  the  communion  in  private  during 
her  confinement,  but  had  a  longing  de- 
sire to  receive  it  in  the  public  congrega- 
tion. That  morning  she  rose  two  hours 
earlier  than  for  a  long  while  she  had 
done  before ;  the  day  was  rugged,  and 
the  air  cold,  so  that  she  probably  in- 
creased her  disorder.  Her  husband  hav- 
ing conducted  her  to  the  church,  after 
the  sermon  she  received  the  sacrament 
with  more  than  ordinary  devotion ;  on 
her  return  home,  she  retired  to  her 
e  4 


152  LADY    MART    WHARTON. 

chamber,  which  she  never  left  again, 
but  died  ten  days  after.  She  had  been 
for  many  years  subject  to  an  asthmatic 
disorder,  which  ended  in  a  hectic,  and 
the  care  of  the  most  expert  plvysicians, 
with  the  use  of  cordials,  could  only  pro- 
long her  life,  not  restore  her  to  health. 
Apprehending  as  it  should  seem,  long 
before,  that  her  strength  might  totally 
fail  her  at  the  last,  she  had  written,  five 
years  before  her  death,  two  papers  ad- 
dressed to  her  husband  and  her  only  son. 

Some  part  of  the  paper  to  her  husband, 

dated  February,  1667. 
a  My  dear  heart,  Sir  Thomas  Wharton, 

"  Our  good  and  gracious  God  will  be 
thy  great  support  and  comfort  in  all 
conditions,  and  will  make  up  all  relations, 
without  which  none  could  have  given 
any  contentment.  We  have  by  His 
mercies  lived  more  happy  days  than  al- 
most any  ;  but  changes  must  come  to  us, 
as  well  as  to  all  others.  Therefore  let 
us  be  thankful  for  all  our  good  we  have 
enjoyed ;  and  be  willing  and  ready  to 
give  up  what  is  dearest  to  us,  when  He 
calls,  who  will  do  nothing  to  hurt  us, 
being  our  most  loving  Father  in  Christ, 
who  has  bought  us  with  His  precious 
blood.  This  I  believe  ;  Lord,  help  my 
unbelief,  and  give  me  to  live  the  life  of 
faith  and  thanksgiving,  and  prepare  for 
His  will,  whether  life  or  death.  I  am 
very  infirm,  but  heart  whole,"  &c. 

Then,   making  mention   of  her  only 


LADY    MART    WHARTON.  153 

son  :  "  Of  whom  I  need  not  desire  your 
taking  care,  for  he  is  yours  as  much  as 
mine,  and  I  know  you  love  him,"  &c. 
"  I  would  fain  have  him  much  in  your 
company,  or  under  your  eye.  Though 
I  know,  his  youth  and  your  gravity  will 
not  altogether  suit ;  yet  I  hope  you  will 
allow  him  grains,  and  he  yield  you  all 
the  obedience  of  love,  as  well  as  fear. 
I  shall  need  to  say  nothing  of  his  mar- 
riage :  for  I  think  we  both  agree  in  de- 
siring he  may  meet  in  the  first  place 
with  piety,  virtue,  and  a  good  extraction. 
And  if  any  wealth  or  beauty  attend  upon 
these,  let  it  come  ;  they  are  not  ill  serv- 
ants, though  unfit  to  be  uppermost  in 
our  desires  or  esteem.  If  God  give  his 
blessing,  a  little  will  be  enough  ;  if  not, 
enough  will  be  too  little  to  satisfy  the 
covetous  desire  ;  from  which  God  deliver 
him.  I  had  rather  his  education  might 
instruct  him  to  use  that  little  he  will 
have  well,  than  to  covet  more  to  spend 
ill." 

The  paper  to  her  son  was  as  follows  : 
"  My  dear  Philip, 

"  I  pray  God  to  bless  you  ;  and  He 
who  has  raised  you  from  many  illnesses 
and  weaknesses,  raise  your  heart  and 
life  to  some  degree  answerable  to  these 
great  mercies,  and  all  others  which  I  am 
not  able  to  reckon  up.  I  am  at  this  time, 
I  praise  God,  well,  and  have  no  illness 
on  me  ;  but  grown  old,  and  often  infirm ; 
which  makes  me  desire  to  leave  some 
e  5 


154  LADT    MART    WHARTON. 

thing  in  charge  with  you,  which  yon 
may  read,  and  remember  your  old  moth- 
er by. 

"  In  the  first  place,  love  and  fear 
God  ;  and  press  and  strive  every  day  to 
increase  more  and  more  in  the  love  and 
service  of  Him,  in  whom  you  live,  move, 
and  have  your  being.  There  is  no  wis- 
dom or  policy  like  it.  And  the  more 
you  converse  with  God's  Word  and  His 
people,  the  more  you  will  find  in  it,  and 
the  better  you  will  like  it.  For  in  His 
service  is  perfect  freedom.  Let  me 
conjure  you  to  let  no  day  go  without 
reading  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  other 
good  books,  as  you  have  leisure  ;  you 
will  find  them  excellent  company.  And 
do  not  only  read,  but  consider  what  you 
read,  to  remember  it.  I  should  be  very 
glad  you  would  early  fit  and  prepare  for 
the  communion  of  the  blessed  body  and 
blood  of  Christ  ;  not  rashly  because 
others  do  it,  but  advisedly  ;  finding  the 
want  of  it,  and  the  preciousness  of  it ; 
which  may  give  you  a  true  hunger  and 
thirst  after  it,  and  all  other  ordinances 
of  God  ;  upon  which,  I  pray,  attend 
very  diligently.  Next,  honour  and  love 
your  king,  and  look  upon  rebellion  as 
the  sin  of  witchcraft.  Lastly,  rever- 
ence, honour,  obey  and  love  your  father. 
Obey  his  commands,  observe  his  instruc- 
tions, mark  his  reproofs  to  prevent  the 
need  of  them  any  more.  And  let  them 
not  make  you  love  his  company  less,  for 
it  is  his  kindness.     When  he  is  angry, 


LADY    MARY    WHARTON.  155 

be  you  very  mild,  and  discreet  in  your 
replies  ;  and  do  not  expostulate  with 
him,  but  own  your  fault,  which  will 
quickly  obtain  pardon ;  for  he  loves  you 
dearly,  and  so  would  1  fain  have  you  do 
him.  Be  careful  of  him  in  age  or  sick- 
ness ;  love  to  be  in  his  company.  And 
always  choose  the  best  company,  for 
there  is  no  good  got  in  ill,  mean  com- 
pany. And  avoid,  as  much  as  you  can, 
all  debauchery,  and  those  that  follow  it. 
Let  the  fear  of  God  first  prevail  with 
you ;  then  the  pleasing  of  your  father, 
and  your  dead  mother's  injunctions,  when 
she  was  alive.  And  consider  well  your 
vow  made  in  baptism,  which,  though  it 
were  promised  by  others,  yet  you  are 
bound  to  perform  now,  as  your  Catechism 
teacheth  you.  To  which  end,  consider 
the  Church  Catechism  well,  and  there 
you  will  find  your  obligation ;  which  I 
beseech  God  to  enable  you  to  strive  to 
perform  in  resisting  the  world,  the  flesh, 
and  the  devil ;  and  loving  our  good  God, 
and  our  neighbours. 

*'  I  would  give  you  warning  of  two 
sorts  of  people  :  the  flatterer  and  the 
backbiter,  and  of  being  either  yourself. 
And  when  any  flatters  you  to  your  face, 
be  not  pleased  with  it,  but  have  a  more 
strict  guard  upon  your  behaviour  and 
actions,  and  examine  whether  it  belong 
to  you  or  no ;  if  it  do,  give  God  the 
glory  ;  if  not,  take  that  occasion  to  en- 
deavour after  being  what  you  would  be 
thought  to  be.  And  if  you  hear  any 
e  6 


156  MARGARET 

speak  ill  of  others,  who  do  not  deserve 
it,  look  to  yourself,  for  you  are  like  to 
have  the  same  when  your  back  is  turned. 
My  dear  child,  be  careful  of  your  ways, 
and  let  not  these  things,  I  say,  be  slight- 
ed by  you  ;  for  they  come  from  one  that 
loves  you,  and  wisheth  your  welfare,  I 
assure  you ;  by  name  your  old  mother, 
"  Mary  Wharton. 
"  February  26,  1667." 

These  papers  she  had  kept  in  her 
cabinet ;  and  the  day  before  she  died, 
she  gave  them  with  her  own  hands  to 
her  husband  and  son,  looking  cheerfully 
as  she  was  used  to  do,  though  very  faint, 
and  since  the  day  when  she  last  went  to 
church,  unable  to  speak  but  in  a  whis- 
per, and  that  with  difficulty.  But  she 
was  cheerful  to  the  last,  smiling  even  in 
the  face  of  death,  and  showing  no  impa- 
tience in  her  faintness  and  want  of 
breath.  "  And  as  she  lived  in  prayer, 
with  it  she  took  leave  of  the  world  to  go 
to  her  Saviour."  She  died  at  the  age  of 
fifty-seven,  and  was  buried  in  the  church 
of  Edlington,  in  Yorkshire,  where  is  an 
inscription  to  her  memory. 


MARGARET  LADY  MAYNARD. 

Lady  Margaret  Murray  was  the 

youngest    daughter   of   James,    Earl  of 
Dysart  in  Scotland.     Her  father  being 


XADY    MATNARD,  157 

fmnished  for  his  loyalty,  she  was  brought 
up,  says  Bishop  Ken,  "  by  the  excellent 
lady  her  mother,  to  whom  she  was  in  all 
respects  so  dutiful  a  child,  that  she  pro- 
tested her  daughter  had  never  in  any 
one  instance  offended  her.  By  the  time 
the  young  lady  was  about  eleven  or 
twelve  years  old,  God  was  pleased  to 
take  her  good  mother  to  Himself,  and 
from  that  time  to  her  marriage,  this  gra- 
cious woman  lived  with  a  discretion  so 
much  above  her  years,  with  so  conspicu- 
ous a  virtue  and  so  constant  a  wariness, 
that  she  always  "  retained  honour," 
such  an  "honour"  as  never  had  the 
least  mote  in  it.  And  to  her  honour  be 
it  spoken,  that  in  an  age  when  the  gen- 
erality of  the  nation  were  like  children 
tossed  to  and  fro  with  every  wind  of  doc- 
trine, she  still  continued  steadfast  in  the 
communion  of  the  Church  of  England  ; 
and  when  the  priests  and  service  of  God 
were  driven  into  corners,  she  daily  re- 
sorted, though  with  great  difficulty,  to 
the  public  prayers,  and  was  remarkably 
charitable  to  all  the  suffering  royal- 
ists, whom  she  visited  and  relieved, 
and  fed,  and  clothed,  and  condoled,  with 
a  zeal  like  that  which  the  ancient 
Christians  showed  to  the  primitive  mar- 
tyrs. 

"  The  silenced,  and  plundered,  and 
persecuted  clergy,  she  thought  worthy 
of  double  honour ;  did  vow  a  certain  sum 
yearly  out  of  her  income,  which  she  laid 
aside  onlv  to  succour  them.  The  con- 
e  7 


158  MARGARET 

gregations  where  she  then  usually  com- 
municated, were  those  of  the  reverend 
and  pious  Dr.  Thruscross,  and  Dr.  Mos- 
son,  both  now  in  heaven,  and  that  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Gunning,  the  now  most  worthy 
Bishop  of  Ely,  for  whom  she  ever  after 
had  a  peculiar  veneration. 

"  But  I  must  by  no  means  pass  by 
The  Right  Reverend  Father  in  God, 
Bishop  Duppa,  then  of  Salisbury,  after- 
wards of  Winchester,  but  now  with  God, 
who  was  then  put  out  of  all,  and  an  ex- 
emplary confessor,  for  the  king  and  the 
Church ;  this  holy  man,  when  she  re- 
sided in  the  country,  lived  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  she  often  visited  him,  and 
he  seemed  to  be  designed  on  purpose, 
by  God's  most  gracious  direction,  to  be 
her  spiritual  guide,  to  confirm  her  in  all 
her  holy  resolutions,  to  satisfy  all  those 
scruples,  to  becalm  all  those  fears,  and 
regulate  all  those  fervours  which  are  in- 
cident to  an  early  and  tender  piety  ;  and 
God's  goodness  rendered  him  so  success- 
ful, that  she  retained  the  happy  influ- 
ence of  his  ghostly  advice  to  her  dying 
day." 

Before  the  age  of  twenty,  she  was 
married  to  the  Right  Hon.  William  Lord 
Maynard.  who  for  some  attempts  in  fa- 
vour of  King  Charles  1.,  was  impeached 
by  the  House  of  Commons  of  high  trea- 
son in  1647,  but  was  discharged  the  fol- 
lowing year.  After  the  Restoration,  he 
became  comptroller  of  the  household  to 
Charles  II.  and  James  II.     Lady  Mar- 


L.ADY    MAYNARD.  159 

g-aret  was  his  second  wife,  and  lie  had 
two  sons  by  his  first  marriage. 

"  In  her  letters  she  often  gives  the 
most  affectionate  thanks  imaginable  to 
him,  for  his  invaluable  and  unparalleled 
kindness  tov/ards  her,  as  she  herself 
terms  it,  and  most  fervently  prays  that 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  would  be  his  ex- 
ceeding great  reward  and  his  portion  for 
ever ;  but  I  forbear  to  offer  violence  to 
the  modesty  of  the  survivor,  and  will 
content  myself  to  say  only  in  general, 
that  when  she  was  a  wife,  she  still  prac- 
tised her  accustomed  devotion  which  she 
practised  when  a  virgin,  and  her  greatest 
concern  was  '  for  the  things  of  the  Lord, 
how  she  might  please  the  Lord,'  how 
'  in  a  marriage  honourable,  and  a  bed 
undefiled,'  she  might  be  '  holy  both  in 
body  and  in  spirit,  and  attend  upon  the 
Lord  without  distraction.'  And  since, 
as  Solomon  affirms,  i  a  prudent  wife  is 
from  the  Lord,'  she  was  certainly  the 
immediate  gift  of  God,  and  sent  by  pro- 
pitious heaven  for  a  good  angel,  as  well 
as  for  a  wife." 

This  account  of  her  early  life  and 
marriage  is  extracted  from  Bishop  Ken's 
Sermon  upon  her  death,  the  rest  of 
which  shall  be  given  in  his  own  words? 
so  far  as  it  concerns  the  lady  who  is  the 
subject  of  it. 

His  text  was,  "  A  gracious  woman  re- 

taineth  honour."   (Prov.  xi.   16.)     And 

after  treating  upon  this  subject  generally, 

and  more  especially  as  it  concerns  wo- 

e  8 


26Q'  MARGARET 

men,  he  begins  thus  to  speak  of  Lady 
Maynard  :  ,k  It  is  now  time  to  do  all  the 
light  I  am  able  to  the  noble  lady  de- 
ceased, who  was  a  woman  so  remarkably 
4  gracious,  and  retained  an  honour '  so 
entire  and  unblemished,  that  all  the 
measures  I  have  hitherto  laid  down, 
either  of  grace  or  of  honour,  are  but  a 
faint  copy  drawn  after  her  ;  she  was  all 
the  while  before  my  thoughts,  her  holy 
example  is  the  original,  and  though  I  will 
not  say,  that  among  the  many  daughters, 
who  have  done  virtuously,  she  absolute- 
ly excels  them  all,  yet  I  am  sure,  she 
deserves  to  be  esteemed  one  of  the  high- 
est order. 

"  But  alas  !  we  have  nothing  now  left 
except  this  poor  relique  of  clay,  which 
in  a  few  minutes  must  be  restored  to  its 
native  earth,  and  for  ever  hid  from  our 
eyes  ;  the  '  gracious'  soul  that  informed 
it,  is  flowed  back  again  to  God,  from 
whom  it  first  streamed,  and  his  most 
blessed  will  be  done,  who  is  compassion- 
ate and  adorable  in  all  his  chastisements ; 
yet  as  we  are  flesh  and  blood,  we  can- 
not but  feel  the  stroke  which  even  His 
fatherly  hand  has  given  us.  It  is  the 
eurse  of  the  wicked  to  die  unlamentedv 
unless  it  be  that  they  are  sometimes 
carried  to  the  grave  with  the  mercenary 
tears  of  those  who  make  mourning  a 
trade ;  but  the  death  of  the  righteous 
being  a  loss  irrecoverable,  and  a  real 
calamity  to  us  who  survive,  must  needs 
fill  us  with  sad  resentments,  when  ws> 


LADY    MAYNARD.  161 

'consider  of  how  great  a  blessing  we  are 
deprived. 

"  Our  Saviour  himself  has  counten- 
anced a  moderate  grief  for  our  friends, 
in  weeping  over  His  own  dead  friend 
Lazarus ;  so  that  if  we  shed  our  tears 
over  the  grave  of  this  gracious  and  hon- 
ourable lady,  it  is  but  to  be  just  to  her 
ashes,  to  ease  our  own  sorrowful  spirits, 
and  to  testify  to  the  world  how  dear  a 
sense  we  have  of  her  worth.  For  had 
she  nothing  but  her  quality  to  have  re- 
commended her,  we  might  have  per- 
formed her  funeral  ceremonies  with  a 
bare  outward  solemnity,  but  without 
any  more  concern  than  a  common  ob- 
ject of  mortality  gives  us  ;  but  she  was 
a  '  woman'  so  truly  '  gracious,'  that  we 
could  not  but  most  affectionately  '  hon 
our'  her,  and  cannot  but  have  a  grief, 
that  bears  some  proportion  to  our 
loss. 

"  For  it  is  our  loss  only  we  can  be- 
wail ;  we  grieve  for  ourselves,  not  for 
her  ;  she  has  a  joyful  deliverance  from 
temptation  and  infirmity,  from  sin  and 
misery,  and  from  all  the  evil  to  come ; 
she  is  now  past  all  the  storms  and  dan- 
gers of  this  troubled  life,  and  is  safely 
arrived  at  her  everlasting  haven  ;  she  is 
now  fully  possessed  of  all  that  she  de- 
sired, which  was  to  be  dissolved  and  to 
be  with  Christ,  and  we  cannot  lament 
her  being  happy.  When  we  weep  for 
common  Christians,  we  are  not  to  be 
•sorry  as  men  without  hope  ;  but  when  we 
e  9 


162  MARGARET 

have  so  many,  so  interrupted  and  so  un- 
deniable demonstrations  of  the  sanctity 
of  a  person  as  we  have  of  this  '  gracious* 
woman,'  we  have  no  reason  at  all  to 
grieve  on  her  account,  since  we  have 
not  only  a  bare  hope,  but  an  assurance 
rather,  that  she  is  now  in  glory. 

11  But  why  did  I  call  her  deash,a  loss  ? 
it  is  rather  our  gain  ;  we  were  all  travel- 
ling the  same  way,  as  pilgrims  towards 
our  heavenly  country  ;  she  has  only  got 
the  start  of  us,  and  is  gone  before,  and 
is  happy  first ;  and  I  am  persuaded  that 
we  still  enjoy  her  prayers  for  us  above? 
however  I  am  sure  that  we  enjoy  her 
good  works  here  below,  which  now  ap- 
pear more  illustrious,  and  without  that 
veil  her  modesty  and  her  humility  cast 
over  them  ;  we  still  enjoy  her  exampler 
which  being  now  set  in  its  true  lights 
and  at  its  proper  distance,  and  delivered 
from  that  cloud  of  flesh,  which  did  ob- 
scure and  lessen  it,  looks  the  more 
■  gracious,'  and  the  more  honourable  ; 
and  if  we  follow  the  track  she  trod,  we 
shall  ere  long  enjoy  her  society  in 
heaven. 

"  Let  us  then  alter  our  note,  and 
rather  honour  than  bewail  her ;  she 
was  'a  gracious  woman,'  and  '■honour* 
is  her  due  ;  her  good  name,  like  a  pre- 
cious ointment  poured  forth,  has  per- 
fumed the  whole  sphere  in  which  she- 
moved.  To  paint  her  fully  to  the  life, 
I  dare  not  undertake;  she  had  a  gra~ 
eiousness  in  all  her  conversation  that 


LADY    MAY5ARD.  163 

cannot  be  expressed,  and  should  I  en- 
deavour to  do  it,  I  must  run  over  all  the 
whole  catalogue  of  evangelical  graces, 
which  do  also  concentre  in  her  charac- 
ter ;  I  must  tell  you  how  inflamed  she 
was  with  -heavenly  love,  how  well 
guided  a  zeal  she  had  for  God's  glory, 
how  particular  a  reverence  she  paid  to 
all  things  and  to  all  persons  that  were 
dedicated  to  His  service,  how  God  was 
always  in  her  thoughts,  how  great  a 
tenderness  she  had  to  offend  her  heaven- 
ly Father,  how  great  a  delight  to  please 
Him.  But  you  must  be  'content  with 
some  rude  strokes  only,  for  such  par- 
ticulars would  be  endless  ;  all  my  fear 
is,  that  I  shall  speak  too  little ;  but 
I  am  sure  •  I  can  hardly  speak  too 
much. 

"  Say,  all  you  who  have  been  eye- 
witnesses of  her  life,  did  you  from  her 
very  cradle  ever  know  her  any  other 
than  a  •  gracious  woman  V  As  to  myself, 
I  have  had  the  honour  to  know  her  near 
twenty  years,  and  to  be  admitted  to  her 
most  intimate  thoughts;  and  I  cannot  but 
think,  upon  the  utmost  of  my  observa- 
tion, that  she  always  preserved  her  bap- 
tismal innocence,  that  she  never  com- 
mitted any  one  mortal  sin,  which  put  her 
out  of  the  state  of  grace  ;  insomuch,  that 
after  all  the  frequent  and  severe  exami- 
nations she  made  of  her  own  conscience, 
her  confessions  were  made  up  of  no 
other  than  sins  of  infirmity,  and  yet  even 
for  them  she  had  as  deep  an  humiliation, 


164  MARGARET 

and  as  penitential  a  sorrow,  as  high  a 
sense  of  the  divine  forgiveness,  and 
loved  so  much,  as  if  she  had  much  to  be 
forgiven  ;  so  that  after  a  life  of  above 
forty  years,  nine  of  which  were  spent  in 
the  court,  counting  her  involuntary  fail- 
ings, which  are  unavoidable,  and  for 
which  allowances  are  made  in  the  cove- 
nant of  grace,  she  '  kept  herself  unspot- 
ted from  the  world  ;'  and  if  it  may  be  af- 
firmed of  any,  I  dare  venture  to  affirm  it 
of  this  '  gracious  woman,'  that  by  the 
peculiar  favour  of  heaven,  she  past  from 
the  font  unsullied  to  the  grave.  Her 
understanding  was  admirable,  and  she 
daily  improved  it  by  reading,  in  which 
she  employed  most  of  her  time,  and  the 
books  she  chose  were  only'  serious  and 
devout,  and  her  memory  was  faithful  to 
retain  what  she  read ;  she  took  not  up 
her  religion  on  an  implicit  faith,  or  from 
education  only,  but  from  a  well-studied 
choice,  directed  by  God's  Holy  Spirit, 
whose  guidance  she  daily  invoked  ;  and 
when  once  she  had  made  that  choice, 
she  was  immoveable  as  a  rock,  and  so 
well  satisfied  in  the  Catholic  Faith,  pro- 
fessed in  the  Church  of  England,  that  I 
make  no  doubt  but  that  she  always  lived 
not  only  with  the  strictness  of  a  primi- 
tive saint,  but  with  the  resolution  also  of 
a  martyr  :  it  was  strange  to  hear  how 
strongly  she  would  argue,  how  clearly 
she  understood  the  force  of  a  conse- 
quence, and  how  ready  at  all  times  she 
was  '  to  give  a  reason  of  the  hope  that 


LADY    MATNARD.  165 

was  in  her,  with  meekness  and  fear ;' 
her  letters  which  were  found  in  her 
cabinet,  not  to  be  delivered  till  after  her 
death,  and  very  many  others  in  the  hands 
of  her  relations,  sufficiently  show  how 
good  and  how  great  she  was.  In  them 
this  humble  saint,  before  she  was  aware, 
has  herself  made  an  exact  impression  of 
her  own  graciousness ;  they  are  penned 
in  so  proper  and  unaffected  a  style,  and 
animated  throughout  with  so  divine  a 
spirit,  with  such  ardours  of  devotion  and 
charity,  as  might  have  become  a  Proba, 
a  Monica,  or  the  most  eminent  of  her 
sex,  insomuch  that  her  very  absence 
was  the  more  supportable  to  her  friends, 
in  regard  she  compensated  the  want  of 
her  presence  by  writing,  and  sent  them 
a  blessing  by  every  return. 

"  I  cannot  tell  what  one  help  she  ne- 
glected to  secure  her  perseverance,  and 
to  heighten  her  graces,  '  that  she  might 
shine  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect 
day  ;'  her  oratory  was  the  place  where 
she  principally  resided,  and  where  she 
was  most  at  home,  and  her  chief  em- 
ployment was  prayer  and  praise.  Out 
of  several  authors  she  for  her  own  use 
transcribed  many  excellent  forms,  the 
very  choice  of  which  does  argue  a  most 
experienced  piety  ;  she  had  devotions 
suited  to  all  the  primitive  hours  of 
prayer,  which  she  used,  as  far  as  her 
bodily  infirmities  and  necessary  avoca- 
tions would  permit,  and  with  David, 
4  praised  God  seven  times  a  day,'  or  sup- 


166  MARGARET 

plied  the  want  of  those  solemn  hours  by 
a  kind  of  perpetuity  of  ejaculations, 
which  she  had  ready  to  answer  all  occa- 
sions, and  to  fill  up  all  vacant  intervals  ; 
and  if  she  happened  to  wake  in  the 
night,  of  proper  prayers  even  for  mid- 
night she  was  never  unprovided.  Thus 
did  this  gracious  soul,  having  been  en- 
kindled by  fire  from  heaven,  in  her  bap- 
tism, live  a  continual  sacrifice,  and  kept 
the  fire  always  burning,  always  in  as- 
cension, always  aspiring  towards  heaven 
from  whence  it  fell.  Besides  her  own 
private  prayers,  she  morning  and  even- 
ing offered  up  to  God  the  public  offices  ; 
and  when  she  was  not  able  to  go  to  the 
house  of  prayer,  she  had  it  read  to  her 
in  her  chamber. 

"  To  prayers  she  added  fasting  till 
her  weakness  had  made  it  impossible  to 
her  constitution,  and  yet  even  then,  on 
days  of  abstinence,  she  made  amends  for 
the  omission,  by  other  supplemental 
mortifications.  Her  devotions  she  en- 
larged on  the  Fasts  and  Festivals  of  the 
Church,  but  especially  on  the  Lord's 
days,  dividing  the  hours  between  the 
Church  and  her  closet. 

"  She  never  failed,  on  all  opportuni- 
ties, to  approach  the  holy  altar,  came 
with  a  spiritual  hunger  and  thirst  to  that 
heavenly  feast,  and  communicated  with 
a  lively,  with  a  crucifying,  but  yet  en- 
dearing remembrance,  of  her  crucified 
Saviour. 

"  The  sermons  she  heard,  when  she 


LADY    MAYNARD.  167 

came  home  she  recollected,  and  wrote 
down  out  of  her  memory  abstracts  of 
them  all,  which  are  in  a  great  number 
among  her  papers,  that  she  might  be, 
•  not  only  a  hearer  of  the  Word,  but  a 
doer  also.'  The  holy  Scriptures  she 
attentively  read,  and  on  what  she  read, 
she  did  devoutly  meditate,  and  did  by 
meditation  appropriate  to  herself ;  it  was 
her  soul's,  daily  bread,  it  was  '  her  de- 
light and  her  counsellor,'  and  like  the 
most  blessed  Virgin  Mother,  '  she  kept 
all  things  she  read,  and  pondered  them 
in  her  heart.' 

"  Who  is  there  can  say  they  ever  saw 
her  idle  ?  No,  she  had  always  affairs  to 
transact  with  Heaven,  she  was  all  her 
life  long  '  numbering  her  days,  and  ap- 
plying her  heart  to  wisdom;'  or  to  de- 
scribe her  with  her  own  pen,  she  was 
»  making  it  her  business  to  fit  herself  for 
her  change,  knowing  the  moment  of  it 
to  be  uncertain,  and  having  no  assurance 
that  her  warning  would  be  great.'  Oh, 
happy  soul,  that  was  thus  wise  in  a 
timely  consideration  of  that  which  of  all 
things  in  the  world  is  of  greatest  im- 
portance to  us  to  be  considered,  namely, 
our  latter  end  ! 

"  You  may  easily  conclude  that  a 
saint,  who  was  always  thus  conversant 
with  her  grave,  and  had  heaven  always 
in  her  view,  must  have  little  or  no  value 
for  things  below,  as  indeed  she  had  not ; 
she  did  not  only  conquer  the  world,  bu* 
she  triumphed  over  it,  had  a  noble  con- 


168  MARGARET 

tempt  for  secular  greatness,  lived  seve- 
ral years  in  the  very  court,  with  the  ab- 
straction of  a  recluse,  and  was  so  far 
from  being  •  solicitous  for  riches,  for 
herself  or  her  children,'  that  to  use  her 
own  words,  she  looked  on  them  •  as  dan- 
gerous things,  which  did  only  clog  and 
press  down  our  souls  to  this  earth,  and 
judged  a  competency  to  be  certainly  the 
best.' 

"All  the  temporal  blessings  the  Di- 
vine goodness  was  pleased  to  vouchsafe 
her,  she  received  with  an  overflowing 
thankfulness  ;  yet  her  affections  were  so 
disengaged,  her  temperance  and  mode- 
ration so  habitual,  that  she  did  rather 
use  than  enjoy  them,  and  was  always 
ready  to  restore  them  to  the  same  gra- 
cious hand  that  gave  them  ;  but  no  one 
can  express  her  thoughts  so  pathetically 
as  her  own  self:  '  Oh,'  says  that  bless- 
ed saint,  '  since  God  gives  us  all,  let  us 
not  be  sorrowful  though  we  are  to  part 
with  all ;  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  a 
prize  that  is  worth  striving  for,  though 
it  cost  us  dear  :  alas  !  what  is  there  in 
this  world,  that  links  our  hearts  so  close 
to  it !'  and  elsewhere  she  affirms,  « that 
all  blessings  are  given  on  this  condition, 
that  either  they  must  be  taken  from  us, 
or  we  from  them ;  if  then  we  lose  any 
thing  which  we  esteem  a  blessing,  we 
are  to  give  God  the  glory,  and  to  resign 
it  freely.' 

"  She  was  a  perfect  despiser  of  all 
those  vanities  and  divertisements,  which 


LADY    MATNARD.  169 

most  of  her  sex  do  -usually  admire  ;  her 
chief,  and  in  a  manner  sole  recreation, 
was  to  do  good  and  to  oblige  ;  and  if  we 
will  be  advised  by  one  so  wise  to  salva- 
tion, '  we  are  to  seek  for  comfort  and  joy 
from  God's  ordinances,  and  not  to  take 
the  usual  course  of  the  world,  to  drive 
away  melancholy  by  exposing  ourselves 
to  temptations  ;'  and  this  was  really  her 
practice,  insomuch  that  next  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  temple,  which  she  daily  fre- 
quented, there  was  no  entertainment  in 
the  whole  world  so  pleasing  to  her  as  the 
discourse  of  heavenly  things,  and  those 
she  spoke  of  with  such  a  spiritual  relish, 
that  at  first  hearing  you  might  perceive 
she  was  in  earnest,  that  she  really 
1  tasted  the  Lord  was  good,'  and  felt  all 
she  spake. 

44  Amidst  all  her  pains  and  sicknesses, 
which  were  sharp  and  many,  who  ever 
saw  her  show  any  one  symptom  of  im- 
patience ?  So  far  was  she  from  it,  that 
she  laments,  when  she  reflects  '  how 
apt  we  are  to  abuse  prosperity,'  demands 
'  where  our  conformity  is  to  the  great 
Captain  of  our  salvation,  if  we  have  no 
sufferings  ;'  professes  '  that  God  by  suf- 
fering our  conditions  to  be  uneasy,  by 
that  gentle  way  invites  us  to  higher 
satisfactions  than  are  to  be  met  with 
here,'  and  with  a  prostrate  spirit  '  ac- 
knowledges that  God  was  most  righteous 
in  all  that  had  befallen  her,  and  that 
there  had  been  so  much  mercy  mixed 
with  his  chastising,  that  she  had  been 


170  MARGARET 

but  too  happy.'  Thus  humble,  thus 
content,  thus  thankful,  was  this  '  gra- 
cious woman,'  amidst  her  very  afflic- 
tions. Her  soul  always  rested  on  God's 
paternal  mercy,  on  all  His  exceeding 
great  and  precious  promises,  as  on  a  sure 
and  steadfast  anchor,  which  she  knew 
would  secure  her  in  the  most  tempestu- 
ous calamities  ;  to  his  blessed  will  she 
hourly  offered  up  her  own,  and  knew  it 
was  as  much  her  duty  to  suffer  His 
fatherly  inflictions  as  to  obey  His  com- 
mands. Her  charity  made  her  sympa- 
thize with  all  in  misery  ;  and  besides  her 
private  alms,  wherein  her  left  hand  was 
not  conscious  to  her  right,  she  was  a 
common  patroness  to  the  poor  and  needy, 
and  a  common  physician  to  her  sick 
neighbours,  and  would  often  with  her 
own  hands  dress  their  most  loathsome 
sores,  and  sometimes  keep  them  in  her 
family,  and  would  give  them  both  diet 
and  lodging  till  they  were  cured,  and 
then  clothe  them  and  send  them  home, 
to  give  God  thanks  for  their  recovery ; 
and  if  they  died,  her  charity  accompa- 
nied them  sometimes  to  the  very  grave, 
and  she  took  care  even  of  their  burial. 
She  would  by  no  means  endure  '  that  by 
the  care  of  plentifully  providing  for  her 
children,  the  want  and  necessities  of  any 
poor  Christian  should  be  overlooked, 
and  desired  it  might  be  remembered  that 
alms  and  the  poor's  prayers  will  bring  a 
greater  blessing  to  them  than  thousands 
a  year.'     Look  abroad  now  in  the  world, 


LADY    MAYNARD.  171 

and  see  how  rarely  you  shall  meet  with 
a  charity  like  that  of  this  '  gracious 
woman,'  who  next  to  her  own  flesh  and 
blood  was  tender  to  the  poor,  and 
thought  an  alms  as  much  due  to  them  as 
portions  to  her  children. 

"  To  corporal  alms,  as  often  as  she 
saw  occasion,  she  joined  spiritual,  and 
she  had  a  singular  talent  in  dispensing 
that  alms  to  souls  ;  she  had  a  masculine 
reason  to  persuade,  a  steady  wisdom  to 
advise,  a  perspicuity  both  of  thought 
and  language  to  instruct,  a  mildness  that 
endeared  a  reproof,  and  could  comfort 
the  afflicted  from  her  own  manifold  ex- 
perience of  the  divine  goodness,  and  with 
so  condoling  a  tenderness,  that  she  seem- 
ed to  translate  their  anguish  on  herself. 

"  And  happy  was  it  for  others  that 
her  charity  was  so  comprehensive,  for 
she  often  met  with  objects  so  deplorable 
that  were  to  be  relieved  in  all  these  ca- 
pacities, so  that  she  was  fain  to  become 
their  benefactress,  their  physician,  and 
their  divine,  all  together ;  or  if  need 
were,  she  bid  them  show  themselves 
to  the  priest,  or  else  took  care  to  send 
the  priest  tp  them  ;  thus  was  it  visibly 
her  constant  endeavour  to  be  in  all  re- 
spects merciful,  as  her  Father  in  heaven 
is  merciful. 

"  She  could  bear  long,  and  most  easily 
forgive,  and  no  one  ever  injured  her  but 
she  would  heap  coals  of  fire  on  his  head 
to  melt  him  into  a  charitable  temper,  and 
would  often  repay  the  injury  with  a  kind- 


172  MARGARET 

ness  so  surprising,  that  if  the  injurious 
person  were  not  wholly  obdurate  and 
brutish,  must  needs  affect  him.  But  if 
any  one  did  her  the  least  good  office, 
none  could  be  more  grateful  ;  she  would  if 
possible  return  it  a  hundred  fold  ;  if  she 
could  not  in  kind,  she  would  at  least  do  it 
in  her  prayers  to  God,  that  out  of  His  in- 
exhaustible goodness  He  would  reward 
him. 

"  Her  soul  seemed  to  possess  a  con- 
tinual serenity,  at  peace  with  herself,  at 
peace  with  God,  and  at  peace  with  all  the 
world  ;  her  study  was  to  give  all  their 
due,  and  she  was  exactly  sincere  and 
faithful  in  all  her  obligations  ;  she  kept 
her  heart  always  with  all  diligence,  was 
watchful  against  all  temptations,  and 
naturally  considerate  in  all  her  actions  ; 
her  disposition  was  peaceful  and  inoffen- 
sive ;  she  looked  always  pleased  rather 
than  cheerful ;  her  converse  was  even 
and  serious,  but  yet  easy  and  affable ; 
her  interpretations  of  what  others  did 
were  always  candid  and  charitable ;  you 
should  never  see  her  indecently  angry  or 
out  of  humour,  never  hear  her  give  an 
ill  character,  or  pass  a  hard  censure,  or 
speak  an  idle  word,  but '  she  opened  her 
mouth  in  wisdom,  and  in  her  tongue  was 
the  law  of  kindness.' 

"  As  a  mother  she  was  unspeakably 
tender  and  careful  of  the  two  children 
with  which  God  had  blest  her  ;  but  her 
zeal  for  their  eternal  welfare  was  pre- 
dominant, and  she  made  it  her  dying  re- 


LADY    MAYNARD.  173 

quest  that  in  their  education,  their  piety- 
should  be  principally  regarded  ;  or,  to 
speak  her  own  words,  '  that  the  chief 
care  should  be  to  make  them  pious 
Christians,  which  would  be  the  best 
provision  that  could  be  made  for  them.' 

"  In  reference  to  her  son,  it  was  her 
express  desire  that  he  should  be  good, 
rather  than  either  rich  or  great ;  •  that 
he  should  be  bred  in  the  strictest  princi- 
ples of  sobriety,  piety  and  charity,  of 
temperance  and  innocency  of  life,  that 
could  be  ;  that  he  should  never  be  that 
which  these  corrupt  days  call  a  wit,  or  a 
fine  gentleman,  but  an  honest  and  sin- 
cere Christian  she  desired  he  might  be.' 

"  She  professed,  *  there  was  nothing 
hard  to  be  parted  with  but  her  lord  and 
her  dear  children  ;'  but  though  her  pas- 
sion for  them  was  as  intense  as  can  well 
be  imagined,  yet  for  the  sake  of  her 
God,  whom  she  loved  infinitely  better, 
she  was  willing  to  part  with  them  also  ; 
she  had  long  foreseen  the  parting  and 
prepared  for  it,  and  'humbly  begged 
of  her  heavenly  Father  to  take  them  in- 
to His  protection  ;'  she  took  care  of  their 
souls,  even  after  her  death,  in  the  letters 
she  left  behind  her,  and  comforted  her- 
self with  an  entire  acquiescence  in  the 
good  pleasure  of  her  beloved,  with  hopes 
that  she  should  still  pray  for  them  in 
heaven,  and  that  she  should,  ere  long, 
meet  them  there  ;  and  this  consideration 
of  meeting  above,  put  her  into  a  trans- 
port, which  makes  her  in  one  of  her  let- 


174  MARGARET 

ters  cry  out,  '  O,  how  joyful  shall  we  be 
to  meet  at  Christ's  right  hand,  if  we 
may  be  admitted  into  that  elect  num- 
ber !' 

"  In  her  family  she  always  united 
Martha  and  Mary  together,  took  a  due 
care  of  all  her  domestic  affairs,  and 
managed  them  with  a  wise  frugality, 
with  a  constant  deference  to  God's  mer- 
ciful providence,  and  without  either 
covetous  fears  or  restless  anxiety ;  but 
withal,  '  she  sat  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  and 
heard  His  word,  and  of  the  two  was  still 
most  intent  on  the  better  part.' 

"  She  studiously  endeavoured  by  pri- 
vate and  particular,  and  warm  applica- 
tions, to  make  all  that  attended  her  more 
God's  servants  than  her  own,  and  treat- 
ed them  with  a  meekness,  and  indul- 
gence, and  condescension,  like  one  who 
was  always  mindful  that  she  herself  also 
had  a  Master  in  heaven. 

"  Her  near  relations,  and  all  that  were 
blest  with  her  friendship,  had  a  daily 
share  in  her  intercessions  ;  all  their  con- 
cerns, all  their  afflictions  were  really 
her  own  ;  her  chief  kindness  was  for 
their  souls,  and  she  loved  them  with  a 
charity  like  that  which  the  blessed  show 
to  one  another  in  heaven,  in  their  reci- 
procal complaisance  at  each  other's  hap- 
piness and  mutual  incitements  to  devo- 
tion. 

u  In  respect  of  the  public,  which  she 
often  laid  sadly  to  her  heart,  her  eyes 
ran  down  in  secret  for  all  our  national 


LADY    MAYNARD.  175 

provocations,  and  she  had  a  particular 
office  on  fasting  days  for  that  purpose  ; 
which  shows  how  importunate  she  was 
at  the  throne  of  grace  to  avert  God's 
judgments,  and  to  implore  His  blessing 
on  the  land. 

"  And  now,  after  all  these  great  truths 
which  I  have  said  of  this  excellent  lady, 
one  grace  I  must  add,  greater  than  all  I 
have  hitherto  mentioned,  and  it  is  her 
humility  ;  she  was  so  little  given  to  talk, 
and  had  that  art  to  conceal  her  goodness, 
that  it  did  not  appear  at  first  sight ;  but 
after  some  time  her  virtue  would  break 
out,  whether  she  would  or  no  ;  she 
seemed  to  be  wholly  ignorant  of  her  own 
graces,  and  had  as  mean  an  opinion  of 
herself,  as  if  she  had  had  no  excellence 
at  all ;  like  Moses,  her  face  shined  and 
she  did  not  know  it ;  others  she  esteem- 
ed so  much  better,  had  that  abasing  sense 
of  her  own  infirmities,  and  that  profound 
awe  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  that  though 
she  was  great  in  God's  eyes,  she  was  al- 
ways little  in  her  own. 

"  After  the  Whitsun-week  was  over, 
she  removed  from  Whitehall  to  Easton- 
lodge  in  Essex,  not  out  of  any  hopes  of 
recovery,  but  only  that  she  might  have 
some  little  present  relief  from  the  air,  or 
that  she  might  die  in  a  place  which  she 
loved,  in  which  God  had  made  her  an 
instrument  of  so  great  good  to  the  coun- 
try, and  which  was  near  her  grave  ;  and 
you  may  easily  imagine,  that  after  a  life 
so  holy,  the  death  of  this  '  gracious  wo- 


176  MARGARET 

man'  must  needs  be  signally  happy  ;  and 
so  it  was ;  not  but  that  during  her  pains 
she  had  often  doubts  and  fears  that  af- 
flicted her,  with  which  in  her  health  she 
was  unmolested,  and  which  did  mani- 
festly arise  from  her  distemper,  and  did 
cease  as  that  intermitted  ;  but  the  day 
before  she  died,  God  was  pleased  to 
vouchsafe  her  some  clearer  manifesta- 
tions of  His  mercy,  which  in  the  tender- 
ness of  His  compassion  He  sent  her,  as 
preparations  of  her  last  conflict,  and  as 
earnests  of  heaven,  whither  He  intended 
the  day  following  to  translate  her. 

"  How  she  behaved  herself  in  her 
sickness,  I  cannot  better  express  than  by 
saying  that  she  prayed  continually  ;  and 
when  the  prayers  of  the  Church  were 
read  by  her,  or  when  the  hour  of  her 
own  private  prayer  came,  though  she 
was  not  able  to  stand  or  to  help  herself, 
she  would  yet  be  placed  on  her  knees ; 
and  when  her  knees  were  no  longer  able 
to  support  her,  she  would  be  put  into  the 
humblest  posture  she  could  possibly  en- 
dure, not  being  satisfied  unless  she  gave 
God  His  entire  oblation,  and  "  glorified 
Him  in  her  body  as  well  as  in  her  spirit," 
which  were  both  God's  own  by  purchase 
here,  and  were  both  to  be  united  in  bliss 
hereafter. 

"  On  Whitsunday  she  received  her 
viaticum,  the  most  Holy  Body  and  Blood 
of  her  Saviour,  and  had  received  it  again, 
had  not  her  death  surprised  us  ;  yet  in 
the  strength  of  that  immortal  food  she 


LADY  maynard.  177 

was  enabled  to  go  out  her  journey,  and 
seemed  to  have  had  a  new  transfusion  of 
grace  from  it,  insomuch  that  though  her 
limbs  were  all  convulsed,  her  pains  great 
and  without  intermission,  her  strength 
quite  exhausted,  and  her  head  disturbed 
with  a  perpetual  drowsiness,  yet  above 
and  beyond  all  seeming  possibility,  she 
would  use  force  to  herself  to  keep  her- 
self waking,  to  offer  to  God  her  custom- 
ary sacrifice  to  the  full,  to  recollect  her 
thoughts,  and  to  lodge  them  in  heaven, 
where  her  heart  and  her  treasure  was, 
as  if  she  had  already  taken  possession  of 
her  mansion  there,  or  as  if  she  was 
teaching  her  soul  to  act  independently 
from  the  body,  and  practising  beforehand 
the  state  of  separation,  into  which,  hav- 
ing received  absolution,  she  in  a  short 
time  happily  launched  ;  for  all  the  bands 
of  union  being  untied,  her  soul  was  set 
at  liberty  ;  and,  on  the  wings  of  angels, 
took  a  direct  and  vigorous  flight,  to  its 
native  country,  heaven,  from  whence  it 
first  flew  down. 

"  There  then  we  must  leave  her,  in 
the  bosom  of  her  heavenly  Bridegroom, 
where  how  radiant  her  crown  is,  how 
ecstatic  her  joy,  how  high  exalted  she 
is  in  degrees  of  glory,  is  impossible  to  be 
conceived,  *  the  good  things  which  God 
hath  prepared  for  those  that  love  Him,' 
of  all  which  she  is  now  partaker. 

*'  We  have  nothing  then  to  do  but  to 
congratulate  '  this  gracious  woman,'  her 
eternal  and  unchangeable  honour,  and  as 


178   MARGARET  LADY  MAYNARD. 

she  always,  and  in  all  things,  gave  God 
the  glory  here,  so  that  His  p-riase  was 
Continually  in  her  mouth,  for  all  the 
multitude  of  His  mercies  and  of  His 
loving-kindness  towards  her,  and  is  now 
praising  Him  in  heaven,  let  us  also  offer 
up  a  sacrifice  of  praise  for  her  great  ex- 
ample ;  her  light  has  long  shined  before 
us,  and  we  have  seen  her  good  works.  Let 
us  therefore  glorify  the  Father  of  lights, 
at  whose  beams  her  soul  was  first  lighted. 

"  Blessed  then  for  ever  be  the  infinite 
goodness  of  God,  who  was  so  liberal  of 
His  graces  to  this  humble  saint,  who 
made  her  so  lively  a  picture  of  His  own 
perfections,  so  gracious  and  so  honour- 
able, blessed  be  His  mercy  for  indulging 
her  to  us  so  long,  for  taking  her  in  His 
good  time  to  Himself,  and  for  the  happi- 
ness she  has  now  in  heaven.  To  God 
be  the  glory  of  all  that  honour  her  gra- 
ciousness  did  here  acquire,  for  to  Him 
only  is  it  due  ;  let  therefore  His  most 
Holy  Name  have  all  the  praise. 

"  To  our  thanksgiving  let  us  add  our 
prayers  also,  that  God  would  vouchsafe 
us  all  His  Holy  Spirit,  so  to  assist  and 
sanctify,  and  guide  us,  that  every  one 
of  our  souls  may  be  '  gracious'  like  hers, 
that  our  life  may  be  like  hers,  our  latter 
end  like  hers,  and  our  portion  in  heaven 
like  hers,  which  God  of  his  infinite  mer- 
cy grant,  for  the  sake  of  His  most  be- 
loved Son,  to  whom  with  the  Father  and 
the  blessed  Spirit,  be  all  honour  and 
glory,  adoration  and  obedience,  now  and 
jor  ever.     Amen." 


179 


ANNA  LADY  HALKET. 

Anna  Lady  Halket  was  born  in 
London,  January  4th,  1622.  Her  father, 
Mr.  Robert  Murray,  was  descended  from 
the  Earl  of  Tullibardine's  family,  and  a 
gentleman  of  such  fine  accomplishments, 
that  King  James  I.  chose  him  to  be  pre- 
ceptor to  his  son  Prince  Charles,  for  the 
faithful  fulfilment  of  which  office  he  was 
afterwards  made  Provost  of  Eton  Col- 
lege. 

His  wife,  Jane  Drummond,  was  a  per- 
son of  great  prudence  and  virtue,  and  by 
King  Charles  and  his  Queen  was  made 
sub-governess  to  the  Duke  of  Gloucester 
and  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  during  the 
time  that  the  Countess  of  Roxburgh, 
their  governess,  went  and  continued  be- 
yond sea  with  the  Princess  Royal.  Af- 
ter the  death  of  Lady  Roxburgh,  who 
was  her  cousin,  Mrs.  Murray  succeeded 
to  her  office. 

It  is  said  that  most  of  Mr.  Murray's 
family  had  been  menial  servants  to  the 
King.  He  died  whilst  his  children,  two 
sons  and  two  daughters,  were  very 
young,  and  the  Prebendaries  of  Eton 
College  kept  his  place  vacant  for  a  year, 
though  he  had  not  lived  long  among 
them,  that  they  might  give  Mrs.  Murray 
the  revenue  of  it ;  and  to  make  her  ad- 
vantage the  greater,  renewed  the  leases. 

She  spared  no  expense  in  educating 
her  sons  in  the  most  suitable  way  to  fit 


180  ANNA 

them  for  the  service  of  the  royal  family. 
Her  daughters,  Jane  and  Anna,  had 
masters  for  writing,  speaking  French, 
playing  on  the  lute  and  virginals,  and 
dancing ;  "  and  a  gentlewoman  was  kept 
for  teaching  them  all  kinds  of  needle- 
work. But  their  mother's  chiefest  care 
was  to  instruct  her  children  in  the  prin- 
ciples and  practice  of  religion,  teaching 
them  to  begin  and  end  every  day  with 
prayer,  and  reading  a  portion  of  Scrip- 
ture in  order,  and  daily  to  attend  the 
church  as  often  as  there  was  occasion  to 
meet  there,  either  for  prayers  or  preach- 
ing, backing  all  her  instructions  with  her 
own  pious  example." 

In  a  Life  of  Lady  Halket,  prefixed  to 
her  meditations,  a  further  account  is 
given  of  her  childhood,  and  of  the  early 
thoughtfulness  and  good  sense  which  led 
her  to  profit  by  gentle  reproof,  and  to 
correct  her  childish  faults.  After  biting 
her  sister's  finger  in  a  fit  of  passion,  she 
cried  bitterly,  and  from  that  time  left  off 
the  sports  by  which  she  had  been  tempt- 
ed to  such  anger.  When  her  mother 
refused  to  take  her  out  with  her,  she 
would  comfort  herself  by  considering, 
that  if  she  had  gone,  she  might  have 
said  or  done  something  for  which  she 
would  be  chidden  on  her  return  ;  so  that 
if  she  missed  the  pleasure  which  she 
wished  for,  she  was  safe  also  from  the 
trouble  which  she  feared.  She  so  much 
accustomed  herself  to  this  mode  of  re- 
flection, that  what  she  most  earnestly 


LADY    HALKET.  181 

desired  became  indifferent  to  her,  and 
she  observed  that  she  more  readily  ob- 
tained her  desire  in  any  thing  about 
which  she  was  thus  indifferent,  than  in 
what  she  was  most  eager  upon.  She 
looked  back  afterwards  to  these  passages 
of  her  childhood,  saying,  "  By  these  I 
find  how  early  Thou,  O  Lord,  didst 
prevent  me  by  sowing  the  seeds  of  Grace 
in  my  heart,  though,  alas  !  since,  it  hath 
been  overgrown  by  the  corruption  of  my 
nature  :  O  my  God,  weed  it  up,  that  the 
seed  Thou  hast  sown  may  fructify  and 
increase  to  bring  glory  to  Thee,  and  joy 
to  myself,  and  profit  to  others." 

As  she  grew  older,  she  became  more 
and  more  obedient  to  her  mother  and 
circumspect  in  her  own  conduct.  "  So 
scrupulous  was  she  of  giving  any  occa- 
sion to  speak  of  her,  that  though  she 
loved  well  to  see  plays  and  to  walk 
sometimes  in  Spring  Garden,  yet  she 
seldom  or  never  went  with  any  man  but 
her  brother,  or  when  her  sister  or  other 
elder  than  herself  went  with  her.  For 
hearing  one  day  some  gentlemen  telling 
what  ladies  they  had  waited  on  to  plays, 
and  how  much  it  had  cost  them,  she  re- 
solved that  none  should  have  occasion  to 
say  the  like  of  her." 

Though  such  diversions  as  these  sel- 
dom encroached  upon  her  more  import- 
ant employments,  yet  she  looked  back 
to  them  afterwards  with  so  much  regret 
for  time  vainly,  wasted,  that  she  became 
more  frugal  of  her  time  for  the  future. 
'  f 


182  ANNA 

»•  Nature  had  endued  her  with  a 
comely,  well-proportioned,  healthful, 
and  sprightly  body  ;  a  solid,  quick,  and 
penetrating  judgment ;  an  ingenious  and 
lively  fancy ;  a  well-disposed  and  virtu- 
ously-inclined temper  of  soul,  ready  to 
receive  and  entertain  good  impressions  ; 
a  faithful  and  tenacious  memory  ;  lively 
and  regular  affections."  These  natural 
gifts  she  improved  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. 

"  She  began  the  second  period  of  her 
life,  her  youth,  with  a  personal  dedica- 
tion of  herself  to  God,  renewing  and 
confirming  her  baptismal  vows ;"  this 
she  frequently  repeated,  but  more  sol- 
emnly every  year  on  her  birthday  when 
she  reviewed  her  former  life,  confessed 
her  sins,  returned  thanks  for  the  mercies 
she  had  received,  and  made  resolutions 
for  living  more  strictly,  asking  for  help 
to  keep  them.  She  now  read  the  Scrip- 
tures, which  in  childhood  had  been  her 
task,  as  her  own  choice  and  delight. 
She  went  regularly  through  them  every 
year,  besides  her  frequent  occasional 
converse  with  them. 

"  From  the  example  of  a  devout  lady, 
she  began  when  young  to  observe  stated 
days  of  fasting;  and  as  she  became  bet- 
ter acquainted  with  this  duty,  she  found 
it  a  great  help  to  prayer  and  humiliation, 
and  felt  by  it  much  inward  refreshment. 
She  usually  partook  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per four  times  in  the  year,  for  which  oc- 
casions she  prepared  herself  with  great 


LADY    HALKET.  183 

care.  Her  self-examination  was  fre- 
quent, and  from  her  earliest  years  she 
kept  a  register  of  the  most  remarkable 
events  of  her  life,  with  observations  on 
the  dispensations  of  Providence  towards 
herself  and  others,  of  the  customs  and 
conduct  of  theworld,  and  of  the  tempta- 
tions and  trials  incident  to  every  state  of 
life." 

Some  examples  of  these  her  private 
meditations  may  show  the  foundation 
which  she  was  laying  for  the  many  trials 
and  changes  of  her  after  life. 

"  How  hard  is  it,  if  not  impossible, 
for  one  to  live  in  this  world  free  from 
either  guilt  or  soandal ;  for  all  one's  ac- 
tions are  liable  to  censure,  and  few  re- 
ceive their  sentence  at  the  bar  of  justice  ; 
but  malice  or  envy  always  fill  the  balance. 
Some  think  me  better,  some  worse  than 
I  am ;  Lord,  Thou  only  knowest  the 
inward  truth  ;  whatever  other  people's 
opinions  are,  let  me  ever,  I  beseech 
Thee,  be  rather  unjustly  ill  thought  of, 
than  well  thought  of,  when  I  am  guilty : 
for  while  I  have  satisfaction  in  my  own 
conscience,  and  assurance  of  Thy  favour, 
nothing  shall  afflict  me. 

"  With  some,  the  apprehension  of 
suffering  is  more  prevalent  to  dissuade 
them  from  evil  doing,  than  the  fear  of 
displeasing  their  God  :  Lord,  grant  I 
may  never  fear  any  thing  like  the  offend- 
ing Thee  ;  since  Thy  favour  is  above  all 
things,  so  let  my  affections  be  to  Thee. 

"  There  is  nothing  harder  to  overcome 
f  2 


184  ANNA 

than  the  folly  of  one's  imagination,  and 
few  things  more  sinful :  for  many  make 
conscience  of  their  words  and  actions, 
who  make  none  of  their  thoughts  ;  but, 
Lord,  let  me  be  ever  careful  to  suppress 
my  evil  thoughts,  lest  they  come  to 
actions,  and  both  bring  me  to  destruc- 
tion. 

"  I  have  ever  avoided  the  curiosity  of 
knowing  what  is  to  happen,  as  being  both 
unlawful  and  disquieting  ;  for  if  evil, 
the  trouble  of  it  is  anticipated  in  the 
expectation ;  if  good,  the  impatience, 
perhaps,  of  enjoying  it,  would  be  greater 
than  the  pleasure  in  fruition  ;  but  now  I 
endeavour  to  make  myself  happy  with 
the  hope  of  being  happy  hereafter ;  and 
in  nothing  do  I  find  so  great  content,  as 
in  being  content  with  all  things. 

"  Evil  accidents  prove  much  worse 
when  they  do  surprise  us  ;  but  I  love  to 
use  myself  to  suffering  by  imagination, 
and  by  that  means  I  am  fortified  against 
real  crosses. 

"  Since  the  greatest  crosses  are  ordi- 
nary in  things  that  are  most  pleasing, 
there  can  be  no  real  happiness  in  any 
thing  on  earth. 

"  Impatience  in  suffering  makes  things 
worse ;  nothing  doth  allay  affliction  so 
much  as  seriously  to  consider,  that  it  is 
either  for  trial  or  correction ;  if  we  over- 
come the  trial,  we  may  glory  in  tribula- 
tion ;  if  we  receive  correction,  we  may 
esteem  ourselves  happy,  since  whom  God 
loves,    He  corrects.     Let  me   ever  be 


LADY   HALKET.  185 

mindful  of  this,  that  all  things  work  to- 
gether for  good  to  them  that  love  Thee, 

"  By  accustoming  myself  to  patience, 
under  lesser  trials,  I  will  imitate  them 
who,  being  to  run  a  long  race,  prepare 
themselves  for  it,  by  running  it  by  de- 
grees, until  they  attain  breath  enough  to 
endure  the  farthest  course  :  so,  by  little 
and  little,  I  will  use  myself  to  run  that; 
I  may  obtain. 

"  There  is  a  general  evil  with  which 
many  are  infected,  which  is,  to  be  too 
apt  to  believe  a  report  to  the  prejudice 
of  others,  and  seeming  to  distrust  it,  do 
yet  communicate  it  to  others,  and  so 
propagate  and  foster  what  malice  only 
begat ;  whereas  if  they  desired  really  to 
have  it  false,  would  they  not  rather  have 
sought  out  the  original  of  an  ill-begotten 
story,  and  either  led  it  home  to  its  right 
father,  or  smothered  it  in  the  birth?  Of 
any  fault,  I  desire  not  to  be  guilty  of 
this ;  and  to  avoid  it,  I  will  not  be  cu- 
rious to  inquire  that  which  does  not  con- 
cern me,  lest  others,  finding  that  humour 
in  me,  make  advantage  of  it,  and  I  be- 
come a  customer  to  them  who  set  off  ill 
stuff;  but  if  accidentally  I  meet  with 
any  story  that  is  uncertain  in  the  truth, 
and  unsafe  in  the  trial,  I  will  conceal  it 
what  I  can,  and  content  myself  with  the 
hope  of  finding  it  contradicted;  if  not,  I 
will  mark  their  error,  and  avoid  a  ship- 
wreck of  my  fame. 

"  I  will  be  faithful  where  I  profess 
friendship,  and  not  apt  to  believe  ill  of 
f  3 


186  ANNA 

any  friend,  though  there  be  many  cir- 
cumstances to  make  it  appear  truth.  I 
will  be  just  to,  mine  enemies;  and  when 
I  hear  any  thing  spoken  to  the  prejudice 
of  one  I  know  net,  I  will  first  think,  if  in 
all  my  life  I  never  did  any  thing  that 
might  be  as  much  condemned,  if  it  were 
as  severely  censured  ;  I  will  then  judge 
charitably,  and  not  censoriously. 

"  That  conversation  is  best,  and  that 
friendship  most  advantageous,  where 
there  is  no  design  but  to  increase  virtue 
in  one  another  by  a  mutual  agreement 
and  resolution  of  reproving  what  is  re- 
provable,  and  cherishing  what  is  com 
mend  able. 

"  I  have  observed  that  all  faults  have 
two  faces  :  the  fore-face  pleasing,  the 
hind-face  hideous  and  frightful  ;  how 
happy  are  they  who  can  produce  the 
same  arguments  to  defend  and  protect 
their  innocency,  which  guilt  furnishes  to 
condemn  their  vice. 

"■  Next  to  be  innocent,  is  to  be  peni- 
tent :  I  will  avoid  what  is  possible,  and 
repent  what  is  unavoidable,  and  so  hope 
to  be  happy." 

Her  charitable  disposition  led  her  ear- 
ly to  apply  herself  to  the  study  of  phy- 
sic and  preparing  medicines,  which  might 
be  useful  in  common  cases  of  illness  and 
of  accidents,  especially  for  the  benefit 
of  the  poor. 

"  Her  first  notable  cure  was  on  a  poor 
maid,  whose  hand  was  in  a  very  danger- 
ous state,  having  five  tents  in  it,  occa 


LADY    HALKET.  187 

sioned  by  a  thorn  in  the  lowest  joint  of 
her  forefinger  :  her  mother  dissuaded 
her  from  meddling  with  it,  believing  the 
maid  would  lose  her  hand  ;  but  she,  con- 
fidently relying  on  the  blessing  of  God, 
used  her  endeavours  with  such  success, 
that  the  patient  did  perfectly  recover 
without  any  blemish.  This  cure  she  re- 
corded, blessing  God  for  it,  as  an  en- 
couragement which  confirmed  her  in  the 
resolution  to  serve  poor  distressed  per- 
sons in  this  manner,  and  as  a  fresh  in- 
stance of  the  comfortable  truth  that  God 
is  the  hearer  of  prayer  :  upon  which  she 
resolved  in  all  difficulties  to  make  her 
requests  known  to  Him,  and  to  depend 
on  His  blessing.  This  was  her  constant 
practice  in  administering  to  sick  persons, 
that  she  begged  God's  direction  what  to 
prescribe,  and  His  blessing  on  it." 

In  her  study  of  medicine  she  omitted 
no  pains  which  might  increase  her 
knowledge,  both  by  conversing  with  the 
most  eminent  physicians,  and  by  furnish- 
ing herself  with  the  best  books,  both  in 
English  and  French,  so  that  her  skill 
was  esteemed  by  physicians  themselves, 
and  many  persons  applied  to  her  from 
distant  parts  of  the  kingdom,  and  even 
from  Holland,  that  she  might  send  them 
medicine  which  she  had  prepared. 

At  this  period  of  her  life  she  was  gen- 
arally  loved  and  honoured,  calumny  and 
malice  not  having  as  yet  thrown  the 
least  blot  upon  the  good  character  which 
she  had  obtained.  But  her  trials  began 
f  4 


188  ANNA 

early,  almost  as  soon  as  she  appeared  in 
the  world,  and  she  was  pursued  for  the 
space  of  fourteen  years  by  a  continued 
series  of  difficulties  and  encumbrances, 
both  in  England  and  Scotland,*  till  at 
length  she  arrived  at  some  settled  state. 
The  writer  of  her  Life  does  not  profess 
to  give  a  particular  detail  of  all  the  inci- 
dents which  happened  to  her,  and  which 
she  herself  had  recorded  with  pious  re- 
flections upon  them,  but  only  to  choose 
some  which  he  considered  most  remark- 
able. 

"  There  were,"  he  says,  "  several 
proposals  of  marriage  made,  which  came 
to  no  effect,  for  she  met  with  levity  and 
inconstancy,  or  disagreeableness,  or  else 
opposition  of  parents.  This  last  gave 
her  some  trouble  :  for  as  she  was  unal- 
terably resolved  never  to  marry  without 
consent  of  parents,  accounting  it  the 
highest  act  of  ingratitude  and  disobedi- 
ence in  children,  so  she  could  not  comply 
to  have  a  husband  imposed  upon  her, 
judging  that  union  very  uncomfortable 
and  unsure,  which  was  not  knit  by  free, 
unforced,  and  real  affection. 

"  This  occasioned  to  her,  for  some 
time,  the  displeasure  of  her  mother, 
which  was  very  uneasy  to  her  ;  but,  by 
her  patience  and  dutiful  behaviour,  prov- 
ed at  length  a  mean  to  increase  and  con- 
firm her  interest  in  her  mother's  affec- 


*  Holland,  in  the  Life  referred  to  above,  but 
clearly  a  mistake  for  Scotland. 


LADY    HALKET.  189 

tion,  who  ever  after  treated  her  more  as 
a  friend  than  a  child ;  and,  some  time 
before  her  death,  made  over  to  her  a 
bond  of  the  Earl  of  Kinnoul's,  of  6G200G 
sterling,  which  she  received  with  all 
gratitude,  as  a  new  obligation  to  be  more 
dutiful  and  diligent  in  attending  upon 
her,  (especially  being  now  infirm  and 
sickly,)  which,  with  great  care  and  con- 
cern, she  performed,  ministering  to  her 
all  the  spiritual  and  bodily  help  she  was 
able  to  afford.  This  made  a  very  com- 
fortable and  endearing  impression  upon 
her  dying  mother,  and  filled  her  heart 
with  joy,  in  finding  not  only  the  tender 
affection  of  her  daughter,  but  much  more 
the  refreshing  fruits  of  her  piety  and 
devotion.  She  died  August  28th,  1647, 
and  was  buried  hear  her  husband  in  the 
Savoy  Church. 

"  Her  afflicted  daughter,  considering 
that  now  she  wanted  one  eye  which  used 
to  be  watchful  over  her,  resolved  to 
walk  more  circumspectly  ;  and  not  trust- 
ing in  her  own  resolutions,  she  very  de- 
voutly gave  up  herself  to  the  conduct  of 
God,  in  these  words  :  '  Blessed  God,  as 
Thou  hast  hitherto  directed  me,  be  Thou 
still,  I  humbly  pray  Thee,  a  guide  to 
my  youth  ;  and  though  there  be  none 
now  on  earth  to  whom  I  can  address  my- 
self with  that  confidence  as  I  did  former- 
ly to  my  mother,  yet  Thou  art  pleased 
to  give  me  leave  to  call  Thee  Father  ; 
and  to  Thy  Throne  of  Grace  will  I  direct 
my  supplications.  Hear  me,  I  beseech 
f  5 


190  ANNA 

Thee,  and  grant  my  requests  ;  be  pleased 
to  give  me  the  will  and  power  to  love 
and  fear  Thee  as  I  ought ;  give  me  mod- 
esty and  temperance  in  all  my  words 
and  actions,  that  wherever  I  live,  or 
whatever  I  do,  I  may  not  give  occasion 
to  others  to  judge  uncharitably,  or  bring 
a  reproach  upon  myself  ;  that  I  may,  as 
much  as  possible,  live  peaceably  with 
all,  without  quarrel  or  dissension  ;  that 
if  it  be  Thy  pleasure  to  continue  me  in 
this  single  life,  I  may  so  live  as  that  I 
may  be  a  good  example  to  others  ;  but  if 
Thou  pleasest  to  have  me  change  my 
condition,  then  I  beseech  Thee  direct 
me  to  such  a  husband  as  may  improve 
my  faith,  my  love  and  fear  of  Thee.  I 
desire  nothing  in  this  particular  but  the 
fulfilling  of  Thy  will,  and  that  I  may 
show  myself  obedient  to  Thy  law,  which 
Thou  hast  commanded.  Many  are  the 
troubles  of  Thy  servants,  but  Thou  de- 
liverest  them  out  of  them  all ;  therefore 
on  Thee  will  I  put  my  assurance.  O 
leave  me  not  to  myself;  but  whatsoever 
ill  I  see  in  others  give  me  grace  to  avoid, 
and  what  I  see  good  to  imitate ;  so  shall 
I  walk  uprightly  all  my  days,  and  when 
death  comes,  shall  sleep  securely  in  the 
grave,'  &c.  She  had  also  this  pious 
ejaculation  :  '  My  God,  Thou  hast  from 
all  eternity  decreed  the  event  of  all 
things,  and  nothing  can  change  or  resist 
Thy  will ;  direct  me  in  that  way  which 
is  most  pleasing  unto  Thee,  and  let  it 
ever  be  so  to  me.     Give  me,  I  beseech 


LADY  HALKET.  191 

Thee,  patience,  temperance  and  discre- 
tion, which  may  prove  fences  to  a  virtu- 
ous and  godly  life.'  " 

After  her  mother's  death  she  was  in- 
vited by  her  eldest  brother  and  his  wife 
to  live  with  them,  where  she  staid  about 
a  year,  having  an  apartment  for  herself 
and  her  maid.  From  that  time  she  began 
to  date  her  greatest  misfortunes :  for 
though  she  had  many  serious  reflections 
on  the  sufferings  which  might  follow  on 
any  want  of  circumspection,  and  had 
therefore  formed  resolutions  to  avoid  any 
converse  likely  to  injure  her  in  that  re- 
spect, yet  she  found  the  unsteadiness  of 
her  own  resolutions,  and  what  snares 
might  be  in  the  way  where  she  feared 
none. 

The  loyal  principles  in  which  she  had 
been  educated,  and  the  obligations  of  her 
family  to  a  king  who  had  been  so  gra- 
cious a  master  to  them,  could  not  suffer 
her  to  be  an  unconcerned  spectator  of 
the  misfortunes  of  the  royal  family ;  but 
not  being  able  in  any  other  way  to  show 
her  affection  or  serve  their  interests,  she 
did  it  by  frequent  fastings  and  fervent 
prayers  during  several  years.  At  length 
an  occasion  offered  for  showing  her  rea- 
diness to  run  the  greatest  hazard  in  the 
king's  service.     It  was  this  : 

The  king  had  employed  a  gentleman 
of  truth  and  loyalty  to  effect  the  Duke 
of  York's  escape,  who  with  his  brother 
the  Duke  of  Gloucester  and  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  were  kept  at  St.  James's  un- 
f  6 


192  ANNA 

der  the  charge  of  the  Earl  and  Countess 
of  Northumberland.  Anna  Murray  was 
employed  to  prepare  clothes  for  his  dis- 
guise, and  to  attend  him  at  a  place  ap- 
pointed, which  she  performed  with  all 
diligence  and  cheerfulness.  Her  good 
success  in  this  piece  of  service  encour- 
aged her  in  other  designs  for  the  king 
which  were  committed  to  the  manage- 
ment of  the  same  gentleman  who  had 
conveyed  the  duke  to  France,  and  was 
immediately  sent  back  to  London  by  the 
prince,  with  several  instructions  which 
might  be  serviceable  to  the  king. 

"  The  earnest  desire  she  had  to  serve 
his  majesty  made  her  omit  no  opportunity 
wherein  she  could  be  useful ;  her  zeal 
kept  her  from  considering  the  inconveni- 
ences she  exposed  herself  to  ;  her  inten- 
tions being  just  and  innocent,  she  reflect- 
ed not  upon  the  disadvantageous  con- 
structions which  might  be  put  upon  the 
frequent  private  visits  she  was  obliged 
to  make  to  that  gentleman,  who  since  his 
return  durst  not  appear  in  public.  And 
that  which  contributed  to  render  her  the 
less  apprehensive  of  any  ill  consequence 
was,  that  in  all  his  converse  he  showed 
the  greatest  abhorrence  of  all  kinds  of 
vice  ;  his  discourse  was  grave  and  se- 
rious, tending  to  make  impressions  of 
piety,  loyalty  and  virtue  ;  and  this  being 
so  agreeable  to  her  own  inclinations,  she 
conceived  so  good  an  opinion  of  him,  that 
she  thought  herself  as  secure  in  his  com- 
pany as  in  a  sanctuary ;  but  she  soon 


LADY  HALKET.  193 

became  deeply  sensible,  by  the  calumnies 
and  prejudices  which  this  her  converse 
brought  upon  her,  how  far  she  had 
swerved  from  those  measures  she  had 
formerly  resolved  on, 

"  She  found  that  a  good  intention  is 
not  sufficient  to  justify  what  may  give 
scandal  :  and  that  innocency  is  not 
enough  to  guard  one  from  the  suspicion 
of  guilt,  since  calumny  lays  hold  on  ap- 
pearances as  a  sufficient  ground  of  re- 
proach; she  therefore  acknowledged  that 
she  deservedly  suffered  the  scourge  of 
the  tongues,  for  exposing  herself,  upon 
any  consideration,  to  what  might  make 
her  liable  to  it ;  and  for  this  she  con- 
demned herself  as  much  as  her  severest 
enemies  could  do," 

"  During  the  public  disturbances  she 
was  instant  in  her  private  humiliations, 
fastings  and  prayers,  making  the  Psalms 
the  subject  of  her  meditation,  as  they 
afforded  most  suitable  directions  for  reg- 
ulating her  thoughts  and  prayers,  in  that 
juncture  of  public  affairs  and  of  her  pri- 
vate circumstances.  Her  method  was, 
to  fix  her  thoughts  more  particularly 
upon  one  verse  of  each  psalm,  upon 
which  she  made  some  reflections,  and 
concluded  with  a  short  prayer. 

The  twelfth  of  September,  1648,  hap- 
pened not  only  to  be  the  day  of  the  week 
that  she  had  set  apart  for  her  private 
fasting,  but  also  the  day  appointed  for 
public  humiliation  for  good  success  to 
the  treaty  with  the  king  at  Newport, 
f  7 


194  ANffA 

Her  psalm  was  the  seventh,  and  the  verse' 
she  fixed  on  the  ninth  :  '  O  let  the  wick- 
edness of  the  ungodly  come  to  an  end, 
but  guide  Thou  the  just.'  On  which  she 
wrote  these  thoughts  :  '  O  the  hypocrisy 
of  the  world,  that  men  should  so  ensnare 
themselves  with  their  own  folly  !  Many 
cry,  Peace,  peace,  who  never  desire  to 
see  it.  They  may  blind  the  eyes  of  men 
with  their  outward  formality,  yet  God 
seeth  into  the  most  secret  corner  of  the 
heart,  and  judgeth  according  to  the  sin- 
cerity He  finds  there.  Many  fast  and 
pray  ;  but,  as  the  prophet  says,  it  is  for 
strife  and  envy,  and  to  smite  with  the  fist 
of  wickedness.  O,  that  there  were  a  true 
prophet  to  stand  in  the  gap,  and  Abraham 
to  intercede,  and  ten  righteous  in  the 
city  ! '  &c. 

She  concludes  with  this  prayer : — 
"  Lord,  look  on  us  in  mercy,  and  direct 
us  in  all  our  supplications  ;  O,  let  the 
wickedness  of  the  ungodly  come  to  an 
end  !  We  are  all  ungodly,  but  let  not 
our  wickedness  reign  any  longer  in  us  ; 
neither  let  them  rule  any  longer  over  us, 
who  are  so  ungodly  as  to  hatch  nothing 
but  wickedness.  O,  let  their  power  and 
their  malice  come  to  an  end,  but  guide 
Thou  the  just ;  guide  our  king,  make  him 
to  rule  over  us  once  more  in  peace  and 
safety,  T  dare  not  say  injustice  to  revenge 
the  ill  he  hath  met  with,  but  establish 
him  in  love  among  his  people,  to  be  a 
pillar  to  Thy  decaying  Church,  or  else 
it  will  be  undermined  with  schisms  and 


LADY    HALKET.  195 

errors.  Thou  hast  made  seven  years  to 
pass  over  the  king's  head,  wherein  he 
hath  fed  with  the  beasts  of  the  field ;  he 
hath  been,  as  it  were,  an  outcast  of  the 
people.  Thou  hast  humbled  him,  and 
canst  raise  him  up  ;  Lord,  show  Thy 
power  and  mercy  in  his  deliverance.  O, 
let  the  wickedness  of  the  ungodly  come 
to  an  end  ;  let  them  either  be  converted, 
or  let  their  evil  designs  never  take  effect; 
but  guide  Thou  the  just.  Make  us  also 
just,  that  we  may  be  fit  for  Thee  to 
guide  ;  or  do  Thou  guide  us,  and  then 
we  shall  be  just,  for  none  who  are  guided 
by  Thee  can  swerve  from  Thy  command- 
ments ;  therefore  lead  us  in  Thy  paths, 
for  Thy  Name's  sake." 

"  On  that  fatal  day,  the  thirtieth  Jan- 
uary, when  the  horrid  tragedy  was  acted, 
she  was  so  transported  with  grief  and 
detestation,  with  horror  and  dread  at  so 
bold  avillany,  that,  as  she  confesses  with 
regret,  she  broke  forth  more  in  impreca- 
tions against  the  actors  thereof,  than  in 
prayers  for  him  who  suffered.  Yea,  she 
was  so  possessed  with  an  apprehension 
that  some  visible  and  terrible  judgment 
would  befall  the  place  and  people,  that 
she  went  out  of  the  city  to  avoid  being 
involved  in  their  destruction.  This  also 
she  acknowledged  to  her  sin  and  folly, 
begging  pardon  for  presuming  so  far  to 
limit  the  Holy  One,  who  knows  best 
what  time  and  by  what  methods  to  bring 
the  wicked  to  conviction,  and  loves  not 
the  <death  of  sinners,  but  rather  their  re- 
f8 


196  ANNA 

pentance.  But  the  next  day  after  that 
horrid  crime  was  acted,  when  the  trans- 
port of  her  passion  was  over,  being  one 
of  her  stated  days  of  humiliation,  she 
does  in  a  more  serious  and  devout  man- 
ner reflect  on  that  strange  dispensation 
of  Providence.  She  sorrowfully  bewails 
her  own  sins  and  the  sins  of  the  kingdom, 
as  the  cause  of  God's  so  great  displeas- 
ure. She  considers  the  different  senti- 
ments and  constructions  which  were  un- 
justly and  rashly  vented  by  too  many  on 
that  occasion.  Some  concluded,  with 
Job's  friends,  that  the  king  was  wicked, 
a  great  hypocrite,  and  that  some  horrid 
crimes  had  pulled  down  that  vengeance 
on  him.  Others  entertained  a  better 
opinion  of  him,  but  a  worse  of  God  and 
His  providence.  That  so  just  and  wise 
a  king  seemed  to  be  abandoned  by  God 
to  the  fury  of  his  enemies,  notwithstand- 
ing the  many  thousands  who  sent  up 
prayers  with  tears  for  his  deliverance, 
made  them  conclude  with  those  in  Ma- 
lachi,  '  it  is  vain  to  serve  God.'  She 
abhors  these  reasonings :  the  one  as 
most  unjust  towards  the  good  king,  and 
the  other  as  most  impious  against  the 
great  and  holy  God." 

This  public  calamity  was  followed  by 
a  train  of  private  crosses  and  misfor- 
tunes to  Anna  Murray.  Her  brother 
William,  who  attended  the  Royal  Duke 
abroad,  died  soon  after  his  return  home, 
and  was  buried  near  his  father  and  mo- 
ther.    He  left  his  sister  his  executrix, 


1.ADY  HALKET.  197 

but  by  the  fraud  of  some  persons,  to 
whom,  by  his  direction,  she  entrusted 
the  management  of  her  affairs,  she  was 
not  only  deprived  of  any  advantage  that 
he  intended  her  to  have,  but  made  con- 
siderably a  loser,  and  involved  in  many 
difficulties  and  incumbrances. 

She  was  no  less  unfortunate  in  her 
own  affairs,  being  deprived  of  an  interest 
in  Barhamstead  to  the  value  of  d£412  a 
year.  This  was  a  house  and  park  of 
the  king's,  of  which  she  had  a  lease  ; 
and  of  the  c£2000  which  formed  the  rest 
of  her  patrimony,  she  could  not  com- 
mand one  farthing.  This  brought  her 
to  straits,  having  nothing  to  live  on  but 
what  she  borrowed  on  her  credit,  or 
gave  some  jewel  in  pledge  for.  About 
this  time  also,  it  began  to  be  talked  of 
among  the  Parliament  men  that  she  had 
assisted  in  the  duke's  escape ;  and 
knowing  that  several  women  had  been 
secured  upon  less  grounds,  she  thought 
fit  to  retire  for  a  time.  A  favourable 
opportunity  occurred  for  this  when  Lady 
H.  urged  her  to  go  home  with  her  to 
the  north.  She  was  most  kindly  enter- 
tained by  Lady  H.  and  Sir  Charles,  and 
respected  by  the  whole  family  ;  she  en- 
joyed the  comfort  of  morning  and  even- 
ing prayers,  and  a  sermon  twice  every 
Lord's  day  in  the  chapel.  Here  she  had 
a  little  breathing  time  from  the  hurry 
and  noise  of  public  confusions,  but  it 
was  not  of  long  continuance,  for  she  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Dun- 
f  9 


98  ANNA 

fermline,  who,  with  other  commissioners* 
from  Scotland,  had  been  with  the  king, 
inviting  him  to  come  home  to  his  ancient 
kingdom  of  Scotland.  The  earl  inform- 
ed her  that  the  king  was  shortly  expect- 
ed there,  and  that  she  would  find  many 
friends  ready  to  assist  her  in  recovering 
that  part  of  her  fortnne  which  was  in 
Scotch  hands. 

"  This  she  imparted  to  Sir  Charles 
and  his  lady,  who  very  generously  fur- 
nished her  with  all  things  necessary  for 
her  journey  to  Edinburgh,  where  when 
she  arrived,  she  was  visited  by  several 
persons  of  good  quality,  and  from  thence 
went  to  Dunfermline,  being  invited  by 
the  earl  and  his  lady.  There  she  had 
the  honour  to  kiss  the  king's  hand,  and 
receive  a  compliment  from  him  for  the 
service  she  had  done  his  brother,  withal 
telling  her  that  if  ever  he  came  to  com- 
mand what  he  had  right  to,  there  should 
be  nothing  in  his  power  he  would  not  do 
for  her.  To  which,  humbly  kneeling 
down,  she  replied  that  she  had  done  no- 
thing but  her  duty,  and  had  recompense 
enough  if  his  majesty  accepted  of  it  as  a 
service,  and  allowed  her  his  favour. 

"  But  in  the  midst  of  all  the  joy  and 
satisfaction  which  the  royal  party  had 
in  the  king's  return,  the  unexpected  de- 
feat of  his  army  at  Dunbar  gave  ground 
of  fear  and  sad  apprehension,  and  put 
every  one  to  new  thoughts  how  to  dis- 
pose themselves." 

Anna  Murray,  having  provided  her- 


LADY  HALKET.  199 

self  with  some  money,  went  with  the 
Countess  of  Dunfermline  to  the  north, 
and  so  upon  the  21st  Sept.,  1650,  they 
left  Dunfermline,  and  came  that  night  to 
Kinross,  where  she  had  the  opportunity 
of  serving  many  poor  wounded  soldiers. 
She  and  her  maid  dressed  more  than 
threescore,  she  having  'well  provided 
herself  with  things  necessary,  in  the  ex- 
pectation of  being  so  employed.  In  the 
fulfilment  of  this  charitable  duty,  she 
did  not  shrink  from  the  most  revolting 
circumstances  belonging  to  the  state  of 
these  poor  sufferers ;  whilst  she  was 
(not  without  reluctancy)  cutting  off  the 
sleeve  of  a  soldier's  doublet,  full  of  pu- 
trified  gore,  a  gentleman  coming  in,  took 
the  knife  from  her,  cut  it  off,  and  flung 
it  into  the  fire.  Besides  what  she  ap- 
plied, she  gave  every  one  of  them  some 
balsam  for  after  use. 

At  St.  Johnstoun,  where  the  king  was, 
Lord  Lorn  told  her  that  he  had  heard 
her  name  often  before  the  council. 
When  he  saw  her  surprised,  he  kept  her 
the  longer  in  suspense,  and  at  length 
told  her  smiling,  that  a  gentleman,  the 
same  who  had  cut  off  the  man's  sleeve, 
had  given  the  king  and  council  an  ac- 
count of  what  she  did  to  the  poor  sol- 
diers, upon  which,  orders  were  given  to 
several  towns  to  take  care  of  the  wound- 
ed. The  king  also  gave  her  thanks  for 
her  charitable  offices. 

They  came  to  Fife  on  the  27th  Sept., 
where  she  was  entertained  with  much 


200  ANNA 

civility  and  respect  by  the  Countess  and 
her  niece,  Lady  Anna  Erskine.  Soon 
after,  the  king  came  to  Aberdeen,  from 
whence  he  ordered  fifty  pieces  to  be  sent 
to  her.  The  Earl  of  Dunfermline's 
concern  in  her  was,  that  her  mother  had 
been  educated  in  his  father's  family,  and 
she  in  duty  and  gratitude  had  made  him 
welcome  to  her  house  at  all  times  when 
he  came  to  court,  and  now  he  continued 
the  kindness  of  his  family  to  her  daugh- 
ter, who  had  till  now  been  a  stranger  to 
him.  She  staid  at  Fife  near  two  years 
in  great  content,  daily  receiving  new 
testimonies  of  kindness  from  the  noble 
family,  being  much  delighted  with  the 
retiredness  of  the  place  and  pleasant 
walks.  Here  she  applied  herself  to  the 
delightful  exercise  of  meditation ;  and 
how  much  her  soul  was  elevated  by  her 
frequent  converse  with  God,  appears 
from  the  strain  of  those  contemplations 
which  were  penned  by  her  at  this  place. 
It  was  also  a  pleasant  diversion  to  pre- 
pare things  useful  for  sick  and  wounded 
persons,  of  whom  a  great  many  came  to 
her,  and  among  others,  some  English 
soldiers.  Whilst  she  ministered  to  their 
bodily  distempers,  she  never  failed  to 
advise  them  to  repent  of  their  rebellion 
and  become  loyal. 

"  When  the  English  army  came  to 
Aberdeen,  some  troopers  came  to  Fife, 
who  were  very  rude,  beating  the  men, 
frightening  the  women,  and  threatening 
to  pistol  them.      The  countess  entreat- 


LADY    HALKET.  201 

ed  Mrs.  Murray  to  go  and  see  if  she 
could  pacify  them,  being  their  country- 
woman, and  she,  committing  herself  to 
God,  went  with  her  maid  ;  and  so  soon 
as  she  appeared,  they  asked  her,  with 
reproachful  expressions,  whether  she 
had  come  to  meet  the  king,  bending 
their  pistols  at  her.  She  without  fear 
owned  herself  to  be  an  Englishwoman, 
and  one  who  honoured  the  king,  and 
then  by  some  persuasion  she  wrought 
upon  them  that  no  more  disturbance 
should  be  given  to  the  meanest  of  the 
family ;  a  promise  which  they  kept  so 
well,  that  the  countess  was  by  their  stay 
in  the  house,  secured  from  many  inso- 
lences that  were  practised  in  other 
places. 

"  A  little  after,  there  came  three  regi- 
ments to  Fife,  commanded  by  Colonels 
Lilburne,  Fitz,  and  Overton  ;  with  the 
last  she  was  engaged  in  a  pleasant  com- 
muning. He  had  said  to  her  (according 
to  the  cant  of  that  time)  that  God  had 
wonderfully  evidenced  His  power  in  the 
great  things  He  had  done.  She  replied, 
*  No  doubt  but  God  would  evidence  His 
power  in  the  great  things  He  designed 
to  do.' 

"  This  she  spoke  with  some  ardour, 
which  made  him  reply,  4  You  spake 
much  my  words,  but  not  I  think  my 
sense.' 

"  '  When  I  know  your  sense,'  said 
she,  '  then  I  will  tell  you  whether  it  be 
mine  or  not.' 


202  ANNA 

"  '  I  mean,'  said  he,  '  what  God  hath 
done  by  His  servants  in  the  late  times, 
which  could  not  be  brought  about  with- 
out the  immediate  assistance  and  direc- 
tion of  God.  It  is  in  this  I  would  know 
your  mind.' 

"  She  answered,  '  Sir,  if  you  had  not 
begun  this  discourse,  I  had  said  nothing 
to  you  ;  but  since  you  desire  my  opinion 
of  the  times,  I  shall  freely  give  it,  on 
condition  that  you  make  no  use  of  what 
I  say  to  the  prejudice  of  the  noble  family 
I  live  in  ;  for  I  can  hold  my  tongue,  but 
I  cannot  speak  any  thing  contrary  to 
what  I  think.  I  confess  you  have  had 
great  success  in  your  undertaking,  but 
it  is  no  good  rule  by  that  to  justify  ill 
actions.  You  pretend  to  great  zeal  in 
religion,  and  obedience  to  God's  word, 
but  if  you  can  show  me  from  it  a  warrant 
for  murdering  your  lawful  king  and  ban- 
ishing his  children,  I  will  then  say  all 
you  have  done  is  well,  and  shall  be  of 
your  opinion.  But  since  I  am  sure  that 
cannot  be  done,  I  must  condemn  that 
horrid  act,  and  whatever  has  been  done 
in  prosecution  or  vindication  of  it.' 

"He  replied,  that  they  who  have 
wrote  on  the  prophecy  of  Daniel,  say 
that  he  foretold  the  destruction  of  mon- 
archy, and  that  it  was  a  tyrannical  gov- 
ernment, fit  to  be  destroyed. 

"  '  But  how  comes  it,'  said  she,  '  that 
you  have  taken  the  power  from  the  Par- 
liament, and  those  successive  models 
that  have  governed  since  you  wanted  a 
king  V 


LADY   HALKET.  203 

"  '  Because,'  said  he,  *  we  found  in  a 
little  time  they  began  to  be  as  bad  as 
he.' 

"  '  And  so,'  replied  she,  '  you  will 
ever  find  reason  to  change  whatever 
government  you  try,  till  you  come  to 
beg  the  king  to  come  home  again  and 
govern  you  ;  and  this  I  am  as  confident 
of,  as  that  I  am  speaking  to  you.' 

"  'If,'  said  he,  '  I  thought  that  would 
be  true,  I  would  repent  all  that  I  have 
done.' 

"  '  It  will  come  to  that,  I  can  assure 
you,'  said  she,  '  and  the  greatest  hin- 
derance  will  be,  that  you  think  your 
crimes  such  as  it  is  impossible  he  should 
forgive  you  ;  but  to  encourage  you,  I 
can  assure  you  there  was  never  any 
prince  more  easy  to  be  entreated,  and 
more  inclined  to  pardon.' 

"  '  Well,'  says  he,  '  if  it  should  come 
to  pass,  I  will  say  you  are  a  prophet.' 

"  So  they  broke  off,  and  she  found  af- 
terwards that  he  was  not  unsatisfied  with 
her  discourse. 

"  Upon  several  occasions,  she  express- 
ed a  great  confidence  of  the  king's  re- 
storation, and  that  not  by  force  of  arms, 
but  in  a  peaceable  manner,  by  turning 
the  hearts  of  his  people  unanimously  to 
desire  it ;  applying  to  this  purpose  that 
of  the  prophet,  Zech.  iv.  6. 

The  Meditations  on  the  twenty-fifth 
Psalm,  published  with  her  Life,  are  da- 
ted in  this  year,  and  show  how  deeply 
she  still  felt  the  troubles  which  had  be- 


204  ANNA 

fallen  her,  especially  the  calumny  of 
which  she  had  been  the  object,  whilst 
she  acknowledges  at  the  same  time,  in  a 
strain  of  fervent  devotion,  that  they  had 
been  the  means  of  bringing  her  to  a 
deeper  sense  of  religion,  such  as  was 
more  than  able  to  repay  her  for  all  that 
she  had  suffered.  Some  of  her  thoughts 
on  the  first  verse  of  the  psalm  will  serve 
as  a  specimen  of  the  humility  and  trust 
which  are  expressed  throughout. 

"  We  may  judge  of  night  by  day, 
and  of  day  by  night,  being  opposite  ;  but 
the  darkest  night  God  hath  made  light, 
and  never  eclipsed  the  day,  but  when  I 
have  found  it  prove  most  for  my  good. 
Never  did  I  present  my  prayers  fervent- 
ly to  Him,  but  I  have  found  Him  the 
God  that  heareth  prayer  ;  therefore,  un- 
to thee,  O  Lord,  do  I  lift  up  my  soul. 

"  And  that  I  can  do  this,  is  a  mercy 
that  equals,  if  not  transcends  any  other  ; 
for  didst  not  Thou,  my  God,  draw  me, 
it  were  impossible  I  could  run  after 
Thee.  O  how  gracious  is  the  Lord, 
Who  gives  us  grace,  and  then  receives 
back  the  effects  of  it,  as  if  it  were  our 
own  righteousness,  and  rewards  it. 

"  What  fruit  can  the  Lord  receive  of 
all  our  service  ?  Doth  our  obedience 
exalt  tlis  power,  or  our  love  His  glory  ? 
Do  not  these,  and  all  other  Christian 
duties,  only  benefit  ourselves  ?  Yet  let 
not  love  to  any  thing  but  God  Himself 
incline  my  soul  to  ascend  ;  for  none  are 
fit,  O  Lord,  to  be  lifted  up  to  Thee,  but 


LADY  HALKET.  205 

such  who  love  Thee  more  than  their 
own  salvation.  What  is  there  so  ce- 
lestial as  to  communicate  with  Thee  ? 
Moses's  face  did  shine  with  being  near 
Thee  ;  so  all  who  approach  unto  Thee 
grow  glorious  and  enlightened  with  the 
brightness  of  that  splendour  that  reflects 
from  Thee.  When  do  I  ever  speak  to 
the  Lord  with  humble  confidence  and 
holy  faith,  but  I  have  an  answer  so  sat- 
isfying to  my  soul,  that  nothing  can  ex- 
press what  it  is  to  have  it  or  want  it,  but 
heaven  or  hell. 

"  When  my  soul  is  lifted  up  to  Thee, 
O  Lord,  object  of  all  perfection,  nothing 
can  afflict  me  ;  absence  of  friends,  or 
their  unkindness,  the  calumnies  where- 
with I  am  reproached,  my  being  as  a 
pilgrim  in  a  strange  land,  none  of  these 
punishments,  nor  the  sins  that  do  occa- 
sion them,  make  me  repine  when  I  am 
with  Thee,  my  God,  because  in  Thee  I 
find  comfort  in  all  conditions  ;  for  in  the 
worst  state,  which  is  in  sin,  I  find  con- 
tent, not  with  the  cause,  but  the  effects  ; 
for  by  Thy  grace  the  devil  is  disappoint- 
ed :  for  Thou  art  pleased  to  open  mine 
eyes  to  see  my  sin,  and  then  Thou  hum- 
blest me  ;  and  never  dost  thou  humble  me 
but  to  exalt  me,  to  triumph  over  sin  and 
Satan.  What  soul  can  be  partaker  of 
such  mercy,  and  not  be  lifted  up  to 
Thee? 

*•  In  my  prosperity,  I  lift  my  soul  to 
Thee  to  praise  Thee  ;  and  in  my  ad- 
versity, whither  can  I  go  but  unto  Thee 


206  ANNA 

for  help,  Who  never  failest  them  that 
seek  Thee  ?  Therefore,  they  that  know 
Thy  Name  will  put  their  trust  in  Thee." 

At  the  same  time  that  she  applied  the 
Psalms  to  her  private  use  and  to  the 
events  of  her  life,  she  applied  them  also 
to  the  blessings  and  trials  of  the  Church, 
and  to  her  own  share  in  these,  as  a  mem- 
ber of  it,  as  in  the  following  passages. 

1  Redeem  Israel,  O  God,  out  of  all  his 
troubles.'  '  Thou  hast  brought  me  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  excellencies  of 
Thy  Church,  and  to  partake  of  the  con- 
solations that  she  gives  unto  all  that  are 
united  to  her,  that  I  might  be  sensible  of 
her  affliction,  and  my  prayers  and  tears 
might  be  more  frequent  and  fervent  for 
her  deliverance.  I  will  give  the  Lord 
no  rest,  till  He  make  Jerusalem  a  praise 
in  the  earth,  and  His  servant  the  King 
a  steadfast  pillar  to  uphold  His  truth.' 

"  The  whole  kingdom,"  continues  the 
writer  of  the  Life,  "being  brought  un- 
der the  power  of  the  usurper,  every  one 
began  to  mind  their  private  affairs  ;  and 
the  Earl  resolving  to  go  to  Edinburgh, 
Mrs.  Murray  proposed  to  take  the  op- 
portunity of  his  company ;  but  her 
money  being  near  spent,  she  knew  not 
how  to  perform  the  journey.  This, 
with  other  difficulties  she  might  meet 
with  at  Edinburgh,  put  her  in  some 
trouble  ;  until  (as  in  all  her  troubles  she 
used  to  do)  she  resigned  herself  to  God, 
and  then  she  was  cheered  up -with  great 
confidence    in    His  all-sufficient  provi- 


LADY  HALKET.  207 

dence,  which  had  never  failed  her  in  her 
greatest  straits. 

'*  Next  morning  the  midwife  (who  had 
come  from  Dalkeith  to  Lady  Dunferm- 
line) came  to  her  chamber  with  her  ri- 
ding clothes  on,  to  take  leave  of  her,  and 
withal  to  request  her  that  she  would  be 
pleased  to  do  her  the  favour  to  take  the 
money  she  had  got  at  the  christening, 
and  bring  it  south  with  her,  for  she  fear- 
ed to  be  .plundered  by  the  soldiers  :  she 
readily  complied  to  do  her  that  courtesy, 
received  the  money,  and  gave  her  a  note 
for  it.  The  woman  went  away  well 
pleased,  but  little  knew  that  she  had  done 
a  greater  favour  than  she  received. 

"  She  came  to  Edinburgh,  June  30, 
1652.  The  Earl  of  Tweedale  and  his 
lady,  going  to  their  country  house,  very 
obligingly  offered  her  some  rooms  in  their 
lodging  ;  and  the  Countess  of  Balcarras 
supplied  her  with  all  necessary  accom- 
modations :  and  to  her  great  satisfac- 
tion, Sir  Robert  Murray  and  his  lady 
were  in  the  same  lodging,  so  that  she 
was  very  happily  situated  for  company 
and  converse.  Sir  Robert  was  her  great 
friend  and  counsellor  in  all  her  affairs, 
and  his  lady  was  devoutly  good,  without 
show  or  affectation,  extremely  pleasant 
in  discourse,  civil  to  all,  and  of  a  con- 
stant cheerful  humour.  That  lodging 
was  the  place  of  rendezvous  to  the  best 
and  most  loyal  of  the  kingdom,  where 
were  held  frequent  meetings  of  such 
who  were  contriving  means  to  assert 
their  loyalty,  and  free  their  country." 


208  ANNA 

It  was  at  this  time  that  she  became 
first  acquainted  with  Sir  James  Halket, 
a  cousin  of  Sir  Robert  Murray's,  but  her 
happiness  in  the  society  she  here  enjoy- 
ed, was  disturbed  by  the  death  of  Sir 
Robert's  wife  in  childbirth,  which  caused 
great  grief  to  Anna  Murray,  and  de- 
prived her  of  both  her  friends,  as  Sir 
Robert  then  left  Edinburgh.  He  had 
been  assisting  her  in  a  law-suit  on  the 
subject  of  that  bond  of  d£2000,  given  to 
her  by  her  mother,  "  which  cost  her 
great  trouble  and  expense  for  many 
years,  though  Lord  Newbyth  and  his 
father  would  have  none  of  her  mone}^, 
but  were  ready  to  assist  her  with  their 
advice  ;  her  disadvantage  was  that  her 
antagonist  was  favoured  by  the  English 
judges,  and  she  was  known  to  be  a  great 
malignant  (as  they  termed  all  loyalists  :) 
they  put  her  off  with  delays  till  he  had 
secured  by  fraudulent  conveyances  all 
the  money  in  good  hands,  and  then  gave 
her  a  decreet  to  recover  the  rest.  By 
this  means  she  was  brought  to  straits  ; 
but  had  always  largeness  of  heart  to  do 
charity  beyond  her  power.  Having  but 
one  shilling,  she  gave  it  to  a  poor  man, 
as  she  thought  that  perhaps  some  one 
would  lend  to  her  who  would  not  give  to 
him,  and  was  highly  pleased  to  see  what 
joy  it  raised  in  him.  Next  morning  the 
Earl  of  Roxburgh  brought  her  a  kind  let- 
ter from  her  sister,  Sir  Henry  Newton's 
lady,  with  <€20,  as  a  testimony  of  her 
affection,  which  was  a  very  seasonable 
supply. 


LADY  HALKET.  209 

"  Meantime  Sir  James  Halket  dis- 
covered his  affection  to  her,  and  made  a 
proposal  of  marriage,  which  she  receiv- 
ed with  tears  in  her  eyes,  looking  upon 
it  as  an  addition  to  her  misfortune  to 
have  the  affection  of  so  worthy  a  person, 
when  she  was  not  in  a  condition  to  give 
him  the  return  he  deserved.  She  gave 
him  a  particular  account  of  her  misfor- 
tunes, and  the  great  debt  which  her  af- 
fairs had  obliged  her  to  contract ;  and 
ingenuously  told  him  her  resolution  never 
to  marry  any  person  til]  she  could  put 
her  affairs  in  such  a  posture,  that  if  she 
brought  no  advantage  where  she  mar- 
ried, at  least  she  should  bring  no  incum- 
brance. His  urgent  solicitations  at 
length  prevailed  so  far  on  her,  that  she 
resolved  as  soon  as  possible  to  put  her- 
self in  a  capacity  to  comply  with  his  de- 
sire ;  and  for  that  end,  about  the  begin- 
ning of  September,  1654,  she  began  her 
journey  flbr  London,  in  order  to  try  how 
her  friends  would  assist  her  in  settling 
her  affairs,  and  take  some  c6urse  with 
her  creditors. 

u  At  her  arrival  she  found  the  state  of 
the  government  so  far  altered  by  many 
ruptures  that  had  been  among  them,  that 
the  loyal  party  was  more  favourably 
looked  upon,  so  that  she  was  in  no  dan- 
ger from  the  public  for  what  she  had 
done  in  serving  the  king. 

"  Her  relations  received  her  with  all 
testimonies  of  kindness,  especially  her 
sister  and  her  husband,  Sir  Henry  New- 


210  ANNA 

ton,  with  whom  for  the  most  part  she 
abode.  Her  creditors  were  as  civil  and 
lenient  as  she  could  have  desired,  and 
were  as  ready  to  serve  her  as  ever  they 
had  been  :  and  having  in  a  good  mea- 
sure cleared  her  affairs,  so  that  all  to 
whom  she  was  really  owing  were  satis- 
fied, (which  she  was  enabled  to  do  by 
the  favour  of  the  Countess  of  Devon- 
shire, who  advanced  her  d£200,  and  her 
kind  brother  Newton,  who  gave  her 
<.£300,)  she  was  very  much  at  ease. 

14  Sir  James  being  come  to  London 
with  a  design  to  accomplish  his  marriage, 
and  she  being  fully  convinced  that  no 
man  living  could  do  more  than  he  had 
done  to  oblige  her,  she  intended  to  give 
him  herself,  regretting  that  she  could 
not  bring  him  a  fortune  as  great  as  his 
affection. 

"  But  first  she  set  a  day  apart,  solemn- 
ly by  fast  and  prayer  to  beg  God's  direc- 
tion in  an  affair  of  so  great  importance, 
performing  this  devotion  with  an  entire 
resignation  of  herself  to  God,  and  a  firm 
resolution  to  be  content,  however  it 
pleased  Him  to  dispose  of  her,  begging 
that  He  would  make  her  way  plain,  and 
her  paths  righteous,  in  His  sight. 

44  After  this,  with  a  more  free  and 
cheerful  mind,  she  followed  the  conduct 
of  Divine  Providence,  and  upon  the 
Lord's  day,  March  2,  1656,  she  was 
married  to  Sir  James,  in  her  brother 
Newton's  closet,  by  Mr.  Gaile,  chaplain 
to  the  Countess  of  Devonshire,  whom 


LADY  HAIKET.  211 

they  had  brought  to  London  from  Charle- 
ton  for  that  end. 

"  After  a  few  days  they  took  leave  of 
their  friends,  and  set  out  for  Scotland  in 
the  post-coach  :  they  came  safe  to  Pit- 
firren,  and  received  a  kind  welcome 
from  all  Sir  James's  friends  and  neigh- 
bours. 

"  There  could  be  none  happier  than 
she  was  in  a  wise  and  affectionate  hus- 
band ;  for  whom,  the  longer  she  knew 
him,  she  had  the  greater  reason  to  bless 
God  :  and  what  he  had  proposed  to  him- 
self he  found,  and  enjoyed  greater  satis- 
faction and  content  in  her  virtue  and 
piety  than  all  worldly  advantages  could 
have  afforded. 

"  There  was  an  entire  union  of  heart, 
and  harmony  of  temper,  and  a  tender 
sympathy,  a  prudent  and  affectionate 
bearing  with  and  correcting  each  other's 
infirmities.  If  he  was  at  any  time  out 
of  humour,  or  inclined  to  melancholy  by 
any  cross  accident,  she  had  an  excellent 
dexterity  to  dispel  the  cloud  and  cheer 
him  up ;  and  if  warmth  of  temper 
(which  was  her  greatest  foible)  did  at 
any  time  transport  her  to  do  any  thing 
unbecoming  her  duty  towards  him,  he 
by  meekness  of  wisdom  gently  allayed 
it. 

"  That  which  was  the  firm  bond  of 
their  concord  and  mutual  comfort  in  one 
another,  was  sincere  religious  disposi- 
tion, which  they  mutually  cherished 
and  increased  in  one  another. 


212  ANNA 

"  Sir  James  had  been  formerly  mar- 
ried to  Miss  Montgomery,  daughter  of 
Skermorly,  of  whom  he  kept  a  kind  re- 
membrance, and  spoke  frequently  with 
great  affection."  He  had  by  her  two 
sons,  Charles,  who  succeeded  to  his  in- 
heritance, and  James,  afterwards  knight- 
ed by  King  Charles  II. ;  and  two  daugh- 
ters, Mary,  married  to  Sir  William 
Bruce  of  Kinross,  and  Anna,  to  Sir  An- 
drew Ker  of  Kavers.  They  are  all 
spoken  of  with  commendation  by  Lady 
Halket's  biographer. 

His  second  lady  had  also  four  children, 
who  all  died  young,  except  one  son, 
Robert.  Before  the  birth  of  her  first 
child,  she  was  apprehensive  that  she 
might  die,  and  wrote  "  The  Mother's 
Will  to  the  Unborn  Child."  Before  the 
birth  of  all  her  children  she  dedicated 
them  to  God,  and  renewed  the  dedica- 
tion solemnly  upon  their  birth  ;  after  her 
recovery  her  first  work  was  to  record 
the  mercy  with  thankfulness,  on  which 
occasion  she  wrote  suitable  meditations 
on  Ps.  lvi.  12,  13,  and  xxxiv.  1 — 4. 

When  that  joyful  time  of  the  king's 
restoration  came,  Sir  James  and  his  two 
sons  went  to  London  to  pay  their  duty  ; 
and  after  two  months  he  sent  for  his 
lady,  hoping  that  she  might  have  some 
reparation  for  the  losses  she  had  sus- 
tained; but  though  she  received  great 
expressions  of  kindness  from  the  king 
and  duke,  yet  she  was  not  successful  in 
any    thing    she    petitioned    for.     After 


LADY  HALKET.  213 

many  disappointments,  all  that  she  ob- 
tained was  6£500  from  the  exchequer, 
and  d£50  from  the  Duke  as  a  gift  to  the 
child  that  was  born  in  London.  This 
came  to  little  or  no  account,  considering 
the  expense  of  their  journey  and  long 
attendance  ;  but  Sir  James  having  done 
nothing  but  what  he  thought  it  reasona- 
ble to  do,  did  not  repine  at  the  ill  suc- 
cess, nor  show  the  least  change  in  his 
affection  to  his  lady,  whose  affairs  had 
engaged  him  in  that  expensive  and  fruit- 
less labour. 

"  All  she  gained  was  to  learn  not  to 
confide  in  any  one  on  earth,  none  failing 
her  more  than  they  who  made  greatest 
professions  of  kindness,  and  none  proving 
more  real  friends  (though  to  little  pur- 
pose) than  they  from  whom  she  least  ex- 
pected it ;  only  her  brother  Newton 
never  failed  her,  who  at  this  time  ad- 
vanced her  d£100  more. 

Though  her  married  state  was  the 
only  period  of  her  life  in  which  she  en- 
joyed some  worldly  comforts,  yet  these 
were  not  without  a  mixture  of  troubles, 
and  she  was  accustomed  to  observe  that 
she  never  received  any  comfort  or  bless- 
ing, without  some  trouble  either  with  it 
or  soon  after  it,  to  keep  her  humble  ; 
nor  any  cross  dispensation  without  some 
alleviating  circumstances  to  support  her. 

The  death  of  all  her  children  but  one, 
and  of  a  very  hopeful  youth,  the  only 
son  of  Sir  Henry  Newton  and  his  wife, 
were  great  trials  of  her  patience  and 


214  ANNA 

submission,  and  called  forth  pious  and 
suitable  meditations,  which  she  wrote 
down,  as  was  always  her  custom.  But 
the  saddest  and  heaviest  of  her  trials  fol- 
lowed, for  her  husband  fell  into  a  lan- 
guishing distemper  from  which  he  did 
not  himself  expect  to  recover,  though 
his  physicians  apprehended  no  danger ; 
having  ordered  his  affairs,  secured  his 
wife  in  her  jointure,  and  to  her  son 
Robert  a  considerable  patrimony,  he 
gave  himself  up  wholly  to  prepare  for 
death,  which  he  met  with  great  compo- 
sure and  Christian  courage.  His  wife 
attended  him  throughout  his  illness,  and 
though  of  a  weak  constitution,  was  ena- 
bled to  endure  the  greatest  fatigue,  and 
gratify  his  preference  for  being  waited 
on  by  her  rather  than  any  other.  On 
Sept.  24,  1670,  he  gently  breathed  out 
his  spirit,  his  two  eldest  sons  being  at 
that  time  in  France  ;  he  received  an 
honourable  burial,  greatly  regretted  by 
all  who  knew  him.  His  upright,  reli- 
gious, and  charitable  character  fitted 
him  in  every  way  to  make  his  wife  hap- 
py ;  and  her  biographer  adds,  "  that  he 
loved  much  to  be  at  home,  and  diverted 
himself  in  useful  contrivances  for  im- 
proving his  houser  gardens,  and  enclo- 
sures." 

Her  grief  for  his  loss  was  not  a  violent 
passion,  which  soon  passes  over,  but 
such  a  real  sense  of  his  worth  and  her 
own  loss,  as  preserved  in  her  a  fresh  and 
lively  remembrance  of  him  during  more 


LADY  HALKET.  215 

than  twenty-eight  years  that  she  sur- 
vived him. 

"  The  first  time  she  went  to  bed  after 
his  death,  she  awakened  out  of  sleep 
with  these  words  in  her  mouth,  '  A 
widow  indeed  !'  which  made  such  im- 
pression upon  her,  that  she  could  not  be 
satisfied  till  she  found  the  place  where 
it  was  wrote,  1  Tim.  v.  3,  5.  She 
fixed  her  thoughts  on  the  characters 
there  given  of  a  widow  indeed,  resolving 
to  make  them  her  example  :  among 
them,  finding  one  is,  to  wash  the  saints' 
feet ;  and  seeing  neither  the  climate  nor 
custom  of  the  country  required  the  lite- 
ral performance  of  that  duty,  she  re- 
solved to  obey  it,  upon  the  matter,  by 
being  ready  and  willing  to  do  the  mean- 
est offices  that  may  be  any  way  helpful 
to  such  :  and  seeing  the  best,  through 
infirmities  and  the  corruption  of  the 
world,  are  subject  to  sullyings,  she 
would  wipe  them  off  as  much  as  she 
could.  She  applied  herself  to  look  over 
the  promises  which  are  made  to  the 
widow  and  fatherless,  that  they  might 
be  her  support,  as  also  to  search  what 
were  the  peculiar  duties  required  of  one 
in  her  circumstances,  as  a  Christian,  as 
a  widow,  and  as  a  mother.  As  a  Chris- 
tian, she  resolved  to  learn  that  first  les- 
son, to  be  meek  and  lowly  in  heart,  and 
set  always  before  her  for  her  study  and 
practice  the  comprehensive  rule  of 
Christianity,  Phil.  iv.  8.  As  a  mother, 
she  pitched  on  the  examples*of  Lois  and 


216  ANNA 

Eunice,  2  Tim.  i.  5,  and  iii.  14,  and 
from  Prov.  xxii.  6,  9,  15,  &c.  She 
found  her  work  chiefly  lay  in  instruc- 
tion, correction,  and  example.  As  a 
widow,  she  fixed  on  that  fore-mentioned 
passage,  1  Tim.  v.  2,  5,  10,  for  her  rule, 
and  chose  Anna  for  her  example  ;  of 
whom  it  is  recorded,  Luke  ii.  36,  37, 
that  '  she  departed  not  from  the  temple, 
but  served  God  with  fastings  and  prayers 
night  and  day.'  She  considered  with 
herself  that  God  was  pleased  in  a  pecu- 
liar manner  to  show  His  regard  and  com- 
passion to  the  sad  and  solitary  condition 
of  widows,  making  it  a  principal  part  of 
pure  religion  to  visit  the  fatherless  and 
widows  in  their  affliction.  She  thought, 
therefore,  that  in  gratitude  they  ought 
to  be  singular  in  their  devotion  to  God, 
and  in  zeal  for  His  honour  and  glory. 
She  had  marked  from  De  Sales,  in  his 
instructions  to  widows,  that  to  love  the 
husband,  being  alive,  is  ordinary  among 
women,  but  to  love  him  so  well  after  his 
death  as  to  hear  of  no  other,  is  a  love 
that  appertaineth  to  true  widows.  That 
the  virtues  proper  to  holy  widows  are, 
perfect  modesty,  renouncing  all  honours 
and  precedency  in  meetings,  titles,  and 
all  sorts  of  vanities,  serving  the  poor 
and  sick,  comforting  the  afflicted,  in- 
structing young  maids  in  devotion,  and 
making  themselves  a  pattern  of  all  vir- 
tue to  young  women  ;  that  cleanliness 
and  plainness  should  be  the  ornaments  of 
their   actions ;     sincerity   and  mildness 


LADY  HALKET.  217 

the  two  ornaments  of  their  eyes ;  and 
Jesus  Christ  crucified  the  only  love  of 
their  hearts. 

She  set  apart  every  Saturday  (being 
the  day  of  her  husband's  death)  for  a 
day  of  retirement,  devotion,  and  absti- 
nence from  wine,  strong  drink,  fish  or 
flesh,  (except  in  cases  of  necessity,)  and 
to  be  employed  in  examining  and  re- 
viewing the  past  week,  in  acts  of  chari- 
ty and  mercy,  and  particularly  in  pre- 
paring herself  for  death.  On  the  9th  of 
December  she  solemnly  engaged  herself 
in  the  following  resolutions, — that  she 
would  spend  the  rest  of  her  days  as  a 
widow  indeed,  that  she  would  be  a  care- 
ful mother  to  her  child,  and  ever  respect- 
ful to  all  her  husband's  relations,  and 
that  if  she  recovered  her  patrimony  she 
would  dedicate  a  tenth  of  all  to  charity, 
and  the  other  nine  parts  to  necessary 
uses.  She  drew  up  some  instructions 
for  her  son,  which  are  published  in  the 
same  volume  with  her  Life. 

On  the  10th  of  December  her  son-in- 
law,  Sir  Charles  Halket,  came  home, 
and  settled  all  affairs  with  her  in  as 
friendly  and  generous  a  manner  as  if  she 
had  been  his  own  mother.  She  then 
removed  from  Pitfirren  to  Dunfermline, 
where  she  had  a  convenient  lodging,  and 
an  easy  and  retired  passage  through  the 
garden  to  her  husband's  burial-place, 
which  she  frequently  visited,  that  by 
continual  remembrance  of  him  she  might 
live  as  became  his  widow  and  one  de- 
I 


218  ANNA 

voted  to  God,  and  prepare  the  more  ear- 
nestly for  the  time  when  she  hoped  to 
be  laid  by  him. 

When  she  came  to  her  lodging,  she 
blessed  God  for  such  a  comfortable  habi- 
tation, and  dedicated  herself  and  her 
family  anew  to  Him,  praying  that  all 
the  conveniences  she  enjoyed  might  re- 
mind her  of  His  goodness,  and  be  used 
to  His  glory.  She  resolved  also  to  give 
a  good  example  in  her  neighbourhood, 
living  at  peace  with  those  near  her,  try- 
ing to  gain  their  love  by  her  good  ser- 
vices, and  to  cause  as  little  occasion  of 
evil-speaking  as  was  possible. 

Her  first  opportunity  of  receiving  the 
Holy  Sacrament  was  at  Tory  burn, 
where  she  solemnly  consecrated  her 
widowhood  to  the  Lord,  begging  grace 
to  behave  like  one  '  whose  husband  and 
maker  is  the  Lord.' 

As  she  professed,  so  she  endeavoured 
to  practise,  wishing  to  be  as  holy  as  the 
greatest  saint,  and  humble  as  the  great- 
est sinner,  loving  God  like  the  angels, 
and  doing  good  to  all  the  world  ;  but  still 
mindful  that  she  lived  in  a  state  of  trial 
and  infirmity,  she  would  be  frequent  in 
self-examination  that  she  might  daily 
repent  of  her  sins  and  give  praise  for 
any  victory  over  them  ;  "  and  in  this 
she  was  able  to  say,  to  the  praise  of 
God's  grace,  that  there  was  no  sin  of  her 
life  of  which  she  did  not  as  heartily 
repent  as  she  desired  pardon,  and  as 
sincerely    resolve,     and    endeavour    to 


LADY  HALKET.  219 

amend  her  life,  as  she  desired  to  attain 
heaven." 

About  two  years  after  Sir  James's 
death  she  went  to  Edinburgh,  partly  to 
visit  the  Dutchess  of  Lauderdale,  her 
near  kinswoman,  and  partly  in  the  hope 
of  procuring  some  advantage  for  her  own 
child  and  for  her  husband's  family.  As 
usual  she  committed  herself  and  her  de- 
signs to  God,  and  resolved  to  adore  His 
goodness,  whether  they  proved  success- 
ful or  not.  In  this  representation  of  a 
court,  she  met  with  great  civilities,  fa- 
vourable looks,  and  good  words,  but  no- 
thing more ;  and  she  returned  from  it 
blessing  the  quietness  of  her  own  lot, 
free  from  the  restraints  and  troubles  of  a 
more  public  life,  and  interpreting  the 
disappointment  of  her  projects  as  an  in- 
timation to  her  to  depend  on  God  alone. 

She  was  now  much  concerned  in  the 
education  of  her  son,  and  early  in  1674 
she  went  with  him  to  St.  Andrews  to 
enter  him  at  the  College,  with  earnest 
prayers  for  his  well-doing,  and  a  resolu- 
tion if  he  returned  safe  to  make  some 
offering  to  the  College  in  token  of  her 
gratitude  to  God.  This  she  afterwards 
fulfilled,  by  presenting  a  communion 
cup  to  the  Church  of  St.  Leonard,  which 
she  sent  to  Dr.  Skeene,  who  had  been 
her  son's  regent. 

When  her  son  was  in  his  15th  year, 
she  caused  him  to  prepare  for  the  re- 
newal of  his  baptismal  vow  by  commu- 
nicating with  her  at  the  Holy  Table, 
g  2 


220  ANNA 

and  for  this  purpose  she  spared  no  pains 
in  instructing  him  herself,  besides  his 
governor's  instructions  at  the  College. 

When  peace  was  concluded  in  1675, 
Sir  Charles  Halket  returned  from  the 
war  against  Holland,  in  which  he  had 
taken  part  as  a  naval  captain  during  the 
last  three  years.  In  the  time  of  his  ab- 
sence, he  trusted  all  his  affairs  to  Lady 
Halket,  which  she  took  care  of  with  the 
greatest  fidelity,  praying  continually  for 
public  safety  and  peace,  as  well  as  for 
the  safety  of  her  own  relations.  Upon 
his  return,  he  married  the  only  child  of 
Sir  Patrick  Murray,  and  in  September, 
a  few  weeks  after  his  marriage,  she 
went  at  his  desire  to  Pitfirren  to  pre- 
pare for  the  reception  of  his  bride. 
"  While  she  was  there,  the  anniversary 
of  her  husband's  death  recurred  :  the 
place  made  the  remembrance  of  that 
loss  more  lively  ;  every  room  within, 
and  walk  without,  brought  to  her  mind 
her  former  happiness,  and  made  the  im- 
pression of  her  loss  more  deep.  It  was 
both  a  joyful  and  sorrowful  reflection  to 
her,  that  the  same  day  on  which,  five 
years  ago,  Sir  James  was  carried  from 
that  house  to  his  burial  place,  his  son 
brought  home  his  wife,  who,  with  the 
Lord's  blessing,  might  build  it  up  :  and 
it  was  great  satisfaction  to  her,  that  now 
that  family  began  to  flourish,  which  for 
some  years  had  been  in  a  manner  deso- 
late without  an  inhabitant :  One  genera- 
tion passeth  away,  and  another  comes. 


LADY  HALKET.  221 

"  She  had  earnestly  begged  of  God, 
that  no  company  or  converse  on  that  oc- 
casion might  divert  her  from  her  duty, 
or  make  her  forget  that  she  was  a  widow 
devoted  to  God  ;  and  that  there  might 
be  nothing  done  by  intemperance,  ex- 
cess, or  any  other  way  to  displease  God, 
but  that  the  joy  and  satisfaction,  and  all 
the  expressions  of  mutual  kindness  and 
respect  which  were  suitable  to  that  oc- 
casion, might  be  managed  with  a  due  re- 
gard to  the  honour  and  glory  of  God, 
the  author  of  all  blessings  and  comforts. 
And  on  her  return  in  October  to  her  own 
home,  and  her  quiet  solitary  life,  (which 
was  more  pleasant  to  her  than  the  great- 
est confluence  of  company,  or  variety  of 
diversions  could  be  to  others,)  she  bless- 
ed God  for  the  gracious  returns  He  was 
pleased  to  give  to  the  requests  of  His 
humble  handmaid." 

In  the  following  year  she  paid  two 
charitable  visits,  one  of  them  to  a  ne- 
phew of  her  husband,  who  was  dying, 
and  much  troubled  in  conscience  at  the 
recollection  of  a  wicked  life,  doubting 
whether  it  was  possible  that  he  could  be 
forgiven.  She  exhorted  him  not  to  de- 
spair, but  be  the  more  fervent  in  seek- 
ing mercy,  advising  him  at  the  same 
time  to  be  particular  in  confessing  those 
sins  which  were  most  heinous,  and  to 
warn  others  against  his  evil  courses ; 
she  left  him  with  the  promise  that  she 
would  remember  him  in  her  prayers  as 
he  desired. 

g3 


222  ANNA 

"  About  this  time  she  was  involved  in 
some  troubles,  occasioned  by  persons  of 
whom  she  expected  better  things  ;  upon 
which  she  applied  herself  to  the  study 
of  extracting  good  out  of  all  these  cross 
occurrences  that  had  befallen  her,  or 
what  might  afterwards  befall  her  ;  and 
wrote  a  very  devout  tract  on  this  sub- 
ject, which  she  entitles,  '  The  Art  of 
Divine  Chemistry,'  in  which  she  be- 
came a  great  proficient.  She  had  been 
taught  by  afflictions  from  her  youth, 
and  yet  blesses  God,  who  had  made  her 
saddest  crosses  occasions  of  many  com- 
fortable experiences  of  His  infinite  good- 
ness, compassion  and  power,  in  support- 
ing her  under  them,  and  making  them 
in  the  issue,  work  together  for  her 
good." 

When  her  son  had  completed  his  col- 
lege course,  she  was  anxious  that  his 
time  should  not  be  misemployed,  and 
therefore  sent  him  to  Edinburgh,  and 
then  to  Leyden,  to  study  the  law  ;  but 
finding  his  mind  indisposed  to  study, 
and  inclined  to  a  military  profession, 
she  yielded  to  his  wishes,  exhorting  him 
to  follow  the  example  of  those  devout 
soldiers  who  had  lived  in  her  own  and 
former  times. 

She  had  been  for  some  years  in  diffi- 
culties, owing  to  the  great  debts  in  which 
she  was  involved  before  her  marriage  ; 
she  acknowledged  the  great  mercy 
which  she  had  met  with  in  not  being 
pursued  by  creditors,  but  was  not  the 


LADY  HALKET.  223 

less  anxious  to  give  to  all  their  due.    At 
the   same   time  she  knew  not   how    to 
withdraw  her  charities,  which  were  con- 
tinually increasing  her   debts,   for   she 
often  borrowed  herself  to  relieve  others. 
"  She  never  ate  her  morsel  alone  ;  the 
fatherless    and    indigent  widow   shared 
with  her  ;  her  kitchen  and  table  sustain- 
ed many  poor  families  ;  her  still-house 
was    an    expensive    business,    and    the 
apothecaries'  accounts  were  considera- 
ble  every    year."     She    admitted    the 
truth  of  the  representations  made  to  her, 
that  justice  ought  to  go  before  charity, 
but  she  found  it  hard  to  withhold  help 
from  the  needy.     In  these  difficulties, 
she  was    assisted   by   the  liberality  of 
several  persons  of  rank   who  supplied 
her  charities,  and  by  some  who  sent  her 
considerable  presents,  in  return  for  the 
good  they  had  received  from  her  medi- 
cines.    If  at  any  time  she  felt  disquiet- 
ed,   she   quickly   checked   herself,    and 
asked   pardon  for  her  distrust  after  so 
many   great   deliverances.     "  If,"    said 
she,  "  I  had  full  bags  to  go  to  at  all 
times,  I  might  be  extravagant,  and  for- 
get the  hand  from  whence  all  comes ; 
but  now  I  am  kept  in  constant  depend- 
ence on   God,   and  every  little  supply 
puts  me  in  mind  of  the  bounty  of  the 
Giver." 

In  1683,  she  resolved  to  break  up  her 

house  and  retire  to  England,  where  she 

proposed  to  live  upon  what  hitherto  she 

had  practised  in  charity,  hoping  through 

g  4 


224  ANNA 

God's  blessing  to  obtain  by  means  of  her 
rich  friends  so  much  as  she  could  sub- 
sist upon,  with  something  to  spare  for 
charity,  and  in  the  mean  time,  to  let  her 
jointure  go  to  paying  her  debts. 

In  the  multitude  of  these  her  thoughts, 
she  applied  as  usual  to  God  for  counsel, 
and  His  comforts  did  delight  her  soul, 
for  she  was  as  much  revived  by  that 
passage  of  the  thirty-seventh  Psalm, 
"Trust  in  the  L  ord  and  do  good,  so  shalt 
thou  dwell  in  the  land,  and  verily  thou 
shalt  be  fed,"  as  if,  by  an  audible  voice, 
it  had  been  addressed  to  her  from  Hea- 
ven. 

And  now  help  was  given  her  in  a  way 
she  had  never  dreamed  of,  by  which  she 
was  soon  much  eased  of  her  encum- 
brances, "which  was,  that  many  per- 
sons of  quality,  and  others,  sent  their 
children  to  her  care,  partly  from  respect 
to  her,  and  partly  for  the  conveniency  of 
their  education  at  school,  so  that  in  a 
short  time  her  family  increased,  upon 
which  she  reflects  on  that  of  Ps.  lxviii. 
6,  "  God  setteth  the  solitary  in  families." 
About  eighteen  months  before,  she  was 
thinking  of  breaking  up  her  family,  and 
now  it  was  increased  with  the  heirs  and 
children  of  eight  several  families,  all  of 
them  motherless,  save  one,  who  was 
fatherless.  She  knew  it  was  one  part  of 
a  widow's  office  to  bring  up  children, 
and  she  earnestly  prays  to  be  assisted  in 
a  motherly  care  of  them,  and  in  using  all 
proper  methods  to  excite  in  them  holy 


LADY  HALKET.  225 

desires  to  become  the  children  of  God, 
and  to  behave  as  such  in  all  their  words 
and  actions. 

"  Besides,  my  Lord  Chancellor  Perth 
wrote  from  London,  April,  1685,  that  he 
had  obtained  for  her  from  the  king  a 
pension  of  d£L00  yearly,  for  which  she 
heartily  thanks  God,  prays  for  the  grant- 
er  and  obtainer,  begging  God's  favour 
and  blessing  with  it,  that  she  may  be  en- 
abled to  do  justly,  to  love  mercy,  and  to 
walk  humbly  with  her  God." 

Her  son  had  received  a  commission  in 
the  Duke  of  York's  army,  and  his  safety 
after  the  defeat  of  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth, when  many  officers  of  the  same 
regiment  were  cut  off,  was  a  subject  of 
thankfulness  to  Lady  Halket.  "  Though 
she  loved  not,"  says  her  biographer, 
"  to  judge  or  censure  public  acts,  yet 
whenshe  apprehended  evilconsequences, 
she  prayed  God  to  divert  them ;"  and 
public  affairs  at  this  time  cost  her  many 
anxious  and  painful  thoughts.  Having 
cherished  for  so  many  years  a  spirit  of 
loyalty  towards  Charles  I.  and  his  fami- 
ly, and  towards  the  Church  for  which  he 
died,  she  could  not  but  watch  with  deep 
concern  the  events  of  his  sons'  reigns. 
After  Monmouth's  defeat,  all  her  joy, 
both  on  public  and  private  accounts,  was 
much  damped,  when  she  heard  of  so 
many,  and  those  eminent  persons,  falling 
away  from  their  own  Church  to  Roman- 
ism. She  felt  distress  and  consternation 
when  she  learned  that  the  Chancellor 
g5 


226  ANJfA 

Perth  was  one  of  these,  "of  whose  in- 
tegrity, piety,  and  devotion,  she  thought 
herself  so  fully  persuaded,  and  to  whom 
she  was  in  many  ways  singularly  obli- 
ged. In  the  midst  of  all  the  grief,  fears, 
and  tears,  which  this  occasioned  to  her, 
she  conceived  some  hope  and  comfort 
from  that  prediction  and  promise  in  Dan- 
iel xi.  35,  "  And  some  of  them  under- 
standing shall  fall,  to  try  them,  and  to 
purge  and  make  white,  even  to  the  time 
of  the  end,  because  it  is  for  a  time  ap- 
pointed." 

M  She  herself  was  also  attacked  in 
several  letters,  but  she,  sanctifying  the 
Lord  God  in  her  heart,  gave  an  answer 
to  every  one  who  asked  her  a  reason  of 
the  hope  that  was  in  her,  with  meekness 
and  fear ;  by  which  it  was  soon  found 
the  attempt  would  take  no  effect,  and 
therefore  it  was  given  over,  to  her  great 
quiet  and  satisfaction. 

44  In  August,  1687,  hearing  it  recom- 
mended as  a  great  help  to  a  devout  life, 
to  meditate  some  time  every  day  on  the 
sufferings  of  Jesus,  she  immediately  re- 
solved on  the  practice  of  it ;  and  for  the 
better  performance  of  it,  she  divided  the 
history  of  His  Passion  into  seven  pe- 
riods, with  proper  meditations  for  each 
day  of  the  week." 

The  events  of  1688  produced  fresh 
disturbance  to  her  peace,  which  incited 
her  to  greater  earnestness  in  prayer, 
both  for  the  king  whom  she  had  once 
served  so  faithfully,  and  for  the  king- 
dom in  its  disquiet. 


LADY  HALKET.  227 

"  When  she  heard  of  the  king's  de- 
parting to  France,  she  bewailed  his  mis- 
fortune with  abundance  of  tears,  and 
earnestly  prayed  that  God  would  sanc- 
tify the  severity  of  that  dispensation  to 
him,  and  His  wonderful  success  to  the 
prince,  that  the  one  may  not  sin  by  de- 
spair, nor  the  other  by  presumption." 
She  prayed  for  the  safety  of  the  Church 
to  which  she  belonged,  and  to  which  she 
was  inviolably  attached. 

She  was  not  without  private  sorrows 
also :  and  among  the  heaviest  was  the 
death  of  her  sister,  Lady  Newton,  who 
had  been  to  her  through  life  the  most 
attached  friend,  and  was  endeared  to  her 
by  her  many  virtues,  her  calm  and  gen- 
tle temper,  her  sincere  love  to  God  and 
to  His  Church,  and  loyalty  in  principle 
and  practice.  The  account  of  her  sis- 
ter's death  came  to  her  through  her 
niece ;  and  shortly  after,  Sir  Henry 
Newton  wrote  a  very  kind  letter,  telling 
her,  that  for  their  former  friendship,  and 
in  memory  of  his  wife,  he  had  resolved 
to  cancel  all  her  debts  to  him.  This 
letter  she  received  with  a  great  sense  of 
his  kindness,  and  said,  "  Blessed  be  he 
of  the  Lord,  who  hath  not  left  off  his 
kindness  to  the  living  and  to  the  dead  : 
the  Lord  give  mercy  unto  him,  for  he 
oft  refreshed  me,  and  was  not  ashamed 
to  own  me  under  my  greatest  trials  and 
misfortunes.  The  Lord  grant  he  may 
find  mercy  in  that  great  day  of  retribu- 
tion, for  Thou,  my  Lord,  knowest  very 
g6 


228  ANNA 

well  in  how  many  things  he  ministered 
unto  me,"  &c. 

The  death  of  Sir  George  Mackenzie, 
a  generous  iriend,  whom  she  much  val- 
ued, both  on  her  own  account,  and  for 
his  public  services,  was  a  great  grief  to 
her ;  his  only  son  had  been  near  four 
years  under  her  care,  and  having  now 
recovered  his  health,  was  sent  for  by 
his  mother,  who  in  testimony  of  grati- 
tude sent  her  a  very  noble  present. 

In  December,  1G92,  her  son  returned 
to  her  after  ten  years'  absence,  much 
broken  in  health  by  ill  usage  in  prison, 
and  by  sickness  which  followed  ;  his 
imprisonment  is  said  to  have  been  in 
London,  upon  his  being  taken  in  his  way 
from  Ireland  into  France,  apparently  in 
the  service  of  King  James.  Whilst  he 
was  a  prisoner,  she  used  on  his  behalf 
the  prayer  which  Solomon  made  for 
such  a  condition,  1  Kings  viii.  46,  &c. 
He  remained  at  home  only  till  Septem- 
ber, 1693,  and  then  went  abroad  again; 
and  on  the  21st  of  October  she  heard 
that,  being  violently  tossed  at  sea  for 
several  days,  he  fell  ill  and  died  two  days 
after  he  landed  at  the  Brill,  where  he  was 
honourably  buried.  She  received  the 
news  in  a  truly  Christian  manner,  say- 
ing, "  O,  God  of  all  pity,  look  upon  me 
in  mercy,  and  support  me  under  this  sad 
stroke,  that  I  may  not  offend  Thee,  nor 
sin  against  my  own  soul,  nor  do  any  thing 
to  be  an  ill  example  to  others." 

"  On  this  occasion  she  applied  herself 


LADY  HALKET.  229 

to  her  cordial  in  all  troubles,  meditation 
and  prayer  ;  and  sadly  regretted  the  want 
of  that  great  allay  of  all  spiritual  and 
temporal  troubles,  the  Holy  Eucharist. 
She  greatly  delighted  in  frequent  com- 
munion ;  and  not  having  in  Scotland  that 
desirable  occasion  every  month  as  in 
England,  she  endeavoured  to  make  up 
that  want  by  laying  hold  upon  all  oppor- 
tunies  which  offered  yearly,  not  only  in 
her  own  parish,  but  in  all  the  churches 
round  about  within  three  or  four  miles. 
She  was  much  taken  with  a  passage  of 
De  Sales  upon  Frequent  Communion  : 
and  on  every  occasion  when  she  ap- 
proached the  holy  table,  she  was  as  se- 
rious in  her  preparation,  as  careful  and 
devout,  as  if  it  were  the  first,  or  should 
be  the  last.  She  was  exact  in  observing 
the  several  operations  of  God's  Spirit  on 
her  soul ;  under  its  more  liberal  commu 
nications,  her  heart  was  so  enlarged  that 
no  command  seemed  difficult,  no  cross 
too  heavy,  no  part  of  His  yoke  grievous ; 
but  when  these  were  withdrawn,  she 
wrestled  with  deadness  of  heart;  and 
what  she  wanted  in  joy,  she  had  in  hu- 
mility and  submission. 

"•  Having  found  so  great  benefit  by 
frequent  communicating,  her  want  of 
those  blessed  opportunities,  since  the 
deprivation  of  the  ministers,  (after  the 
Revolution  of  1688,)  was  more  grievous 
to  her,  and  her  desire  after  that  holy  or- 
dinance was  increased,  by  a  relation  she 
heard  of  one  dying  under  great  fear,  who 
g  7 


230  AHNA 

had  never  communicated.  On  this  occa- 
sion she  remembered  an  advice  of  De 
Sales  :  '"When  thou  canst  not  have  the 
benefit  of  communicating  really,  commu- 
nicate at  least  in  heart,  and  spiritually, 
uniting  thyself  with  an  ardent  desire  to 
this  quickening  flesh  of  thy  blessed  Sa- 
viour,' which  she  resolved  to  follow ;  and 
accordingly,  upon  every  first  Sunday  of 
the  month  she  endeavoured  spiritually 
to  join  with  them  who  on  those  days  re- 
membered the  love  of  Jesus,  according 
to  His  appointment,  and  offered  up  them- 
selves to  His  service." 

The  remainder  of  her  debts  lay  heavy 
upon  her ;  for  as  she  felt  her  health  to 
be  breaking  up  and  death  approaching, 
it  made  her  uneasy  to  think  that  any 
should  be  losers  by  her  death.  She  was 
again  advised  to  leave  off  her  expensive 
charities,  and  acquiesced  in  the  reason- 
ableness of  the  advice,  but  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  follow  :  "  she  had  retrenched  the 
expense  of  her  family  as  much  as  she 
could  ;  and  her  own  personal  expense  for 
food  and  clothing,  ever  since  her  widow- 
hood, had  very  little  exceeded  what  was 
absolutely  necessary  :  but  the  true  case 
was,  that  she  could  easily  command  less 
or  more  to  relieve  the  poor,  or  serve  the 
sick,  and  while  she  had  it  she  could  not 
deny  it,  whereas  it  required  greater  sums 
to  pay  off  debts,  which  she  could  not 
command." 

She  wrote  to  a  friend  about  a  scheme 
for  her  relief;  but  finding  from  his  an- 


LADY  HALKET.  231 

swer  that  it  was  impracticable,  she  fixed 
her  trust  the  more  on  God.  "  As  a  ball, 
when  forcibly  struck  down,  rebounds 
the  higher,  so  what  had  beaten  down  her 
worldly  hopes,  raised  her  faith  to  a  more 
steadfast  persuasion,  that  God,  who  is 
the  Comforter  of  those  that  are  cast 
down,  would  still  be  her  God  and  guide 
unto  death  ;  saying  with  the  prophet 
Habakkuk,  (iii.  17,  18,)  'Although  the 
fig-tree  shall  not  blossom,'  &c. 

"  She  had  some  time  before  fixed  her 
meditations  upon  Phil.  iv.  6,  7,  and  ex- 
perimentally found  the  peace  of  God, 
which  passeth  all  understanding,  keeping 
her  heart  and  mind,  through  Jesus 
Christ,  from  being  disquieted  by  out- 
ward pressures. 

"  She  was  now  eased  of  the  charge  of 
those  children  who  had  been  committed 
to  her  care,  so  that  she  had  nothing  to 
disturb  or  divert  her  from  a  more  entire 
enjoying  of  God,  and  herself  in  Him, 
but  to  find  out  some  method  for  satisfying 
or  securing  such  of  her  creditors  as  were 
yet  unpaid  :  for  this  she  sought  the  Lord 
earnestly,  and  consulted  friends,  and 
made  many  proposals,  being  willing  to 
reduce  herself  to  the  greatest  straits, 
rather  than  any  person  should  lose  by 
her." 

At  length  she  found  a  friend  and  kins- 
man who  was  under  obligations  to  her, 
and  was  now  able  and  willing  to  return 
them  by  advancing  money  to  her  and 
receiving  a  right  to  half  her  jointure  ; 
g8 


232  ANNA 

she  afterwards  made  oyer  to  him  also  a 
right  to  her  whole  household  furniture 
and  plate,  in  exchange  for  which  he  took 
upon  him  the  small  remainder  of  her 
debts  and  the  expenses  of  her  funeral. 
Though  she  would  gladly  have  been  able 
to  bequeath  something  to  the  family  of 
Pitfirren,  and  others  to  whom  she  was 
attached  by  affection  and  gratitude,  yet 
she  submitted  to  the  will  of  Providence, 
which  had  set  bounds  to  her  pious  and 
charitable  projects,  assuring  herself  that 
God  would  accept  of  her  willing  mind, 
and  fulfil  her  good  wishes  and  designs  to 
others  more  effectually  than  she  could 
have  done. 

It  was  in  the  year  1698,  that  her  mind 
was  thus  relieved  by  the  prospect  of  her 
debts  being  duly  paid  ;  and  during  the 
short  time  that  she  survived,  she  cleared 
off  6C300,  in  the  wish  to  have  all  her 
creditors  satisfied  during  her  life-time. 

"About  the  middle  of  March,  1699, 
when  she  was  in  her  78th  year,  she  be- 
came feverish  and  much  troubled  with 
rheum,  which  she  presently  took  to  be 
the  harbinger  of  death,  and  daily  found 
its  approaches  in  the  decay  of  her 
strength  and  vital  spirits ;  but  while  the 
outward  man  perished,  the  inward  man 
wras  renewed  day  by  day,  the  God  of 
hope  filling  her  with  all  joy  and  peace  in 
believing  ;  for  she  knew  in  whom  she 
believed,  and  was  persuaded  that  He  was 
able  to  keep  that  which  she  had  commit- 
ted to  Him. 


LADY  HAIKET.  233 

"  Some  days  before  her  death  she  felt 
most  sharp  and  piercing  pains,  such  as 
(she  then  thought)  were  more  violent 
than  any  she  had  felt  in  her  whole  life, 
under  which  she  showed  admirable  pa- 
tience and  submission.  After  these  had 
vanquished  all  the  remaining  forces  of 
nature,  and  had  brought  her  so  low,  that 
oftentimes  life  was  scarce  discernible  in 
her,  she  little  more  conversed  with  any 
but  God,  and  was  seldom  heard  but  in 
her  pious  ejaculations,  which  were  fre- 
quently uttered,  with  all  the  effort  that 
her  weak  state  was  capable  of.  She 
was  duly  attended  by  the  Lady  Pitfirren, 
her  daughters,  and  others  :  and  on  Sat- 
urday, the  22d  of  April,  1699,  between 
seven  and  eight  o'clock  at  night,  she 
finished  her  warfare,  and  entered  into 
the  joy  of  her  Lord.  That  was  the  day 
which  for  twenty-nine  years  preceding 
she  had  set  apart  for  abstinence,  medita- 
tion and  preparation  for  death,  on  which 
she  wished  (if  it  might  so  please  God) 
to  die ;  and  about  the  same  time  on  which 
she  used  on  these  days  to  take  refresh- 
ment to  her  body,  her  soul  was  called  to 
the  heavenly  supper,  and  began  its  ever- 
lasting Sabbath  of  rest :  and  her  body 
was  on  the  24th  honourably  conveyed, 
and  laid  in  the  same  grave  in  which  her 
husband,  Sir  James,  had  been  laid. 

"  She  was  a  person  of  great  know- 
ledge, having  searched  for  it  as  for  hid 
treasure,  especially  in  those  inexhausti- 
ble mines  of  the  divine  oracles,  where 
g9 


234  ANNA 

the  most  excellent  knowledge  is  found. 
She  was  so  well  acquainted  with  these 
sacred  books,  by  long  and  frequent  con- 
verse, that  she  was  able  readily  to  urge 
any  point  of  faith  or  duty  of  Christian 
practice  from  the  most  pertinent  pas- 
sages. She  had  digested  all  her  knowl- 
edge into  a  solid  principle  of  true  wis- 
dom, for  regulating  her  own  life  and  edi- 
fying others. 

"  Her  piety  had  nothing  of  moroseness 
or  affectation,  but  was  free  and  ingenu- 
ous, as  if  natural,  full  of  sweetness  and 
gentleness,  which  made  it  amiable  and 
impressive.  Her  gravity  and  seriousness 
had  a  grace  and  air  so  taking  and  agree- 
able, as  begot  both  reverence  and  love. 
Her  frowns  and  severest  reproofs  were 
mixed  with  tenderness,  goodwill,  and 
kindness.  Though  passion  was  her  great 
predominant,  she  had  so  far  overcome  it 
that  it  seldom  did  transport  her  ;  if  at 
any  time  it  did,  she  severely  censured 
herself.  "Whenever  her  passion  began 
to  arise,  she  usually  stopped  the  eruption 
of  it,  by  reflecting  on  the  parable  of  the 
ten  thousand  talents  and  hundred  pence. 
She  considered  also  that  the  best  have 
their  failings,  and  the  worst  may  have 
some  good  things  in  them.  Remember- 
ing that  she  had  once  heard  a  person  of 
eminent  quality  discoursed  of,  one  gave 
him  the  highest  character,  another  deci- 
phered him  in  the  blackest  traits :  a 
third,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  that 
person  so  represented,  declared  that  both 


LADT  HALKET.  235 

accounts  were  true,  for  he  had  very  good 
qualities  and  very  bad ;  she  resolved 
therefore  to  comport  the  more  with  hu- 
man frailty,  where  she  found  divine 
gifts. 

"  She  much  delighted  in  God's  house 
and  the  public  worship,  and  was  a  con- 
scientious observer  of  the  Lord's  day  ; 
and  had  made  this  remark,  that  according 
to  her  frame  and  temper  that  day,  such 
was  her  disposition  the  week  following. 

"  She  was  careful  that  all  her  family 
served  the  Lord  ;  and  when  she  wanted 
a  chaplain,  performed  the  offices  of 
Morning  and  Evening  worship  herself, 
enjoining  them  private  devotion  ;  and  to 
such  as  needed,  she  composed  forms  of 
prayer  for  their  use." 

"  She  was  very  moderate  in  her  senti- 
ments about  disputable  points,  sadly  re- 
gretting the  divisions  and  animosities  oc- 
casioned among  Christians  by  them. 
Though  she  heartily  approved  the  doc- 
trine and  worship  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, in  which  she  blessed  God  that  she 
had  been  initiated  and  educated,  yet  she 
complied  with  the  customs  and  forms  of 
the  country  where  God  had  cast  her  lot, 
finding  the  essentials  of  religion  the 
same  in  both."  Being  deprived  of  all 
her  regular  opportunities  of  communi- 
cating, by  the  deprivation  of  the  Scotch 
Clergy  in  1690,  she  communicated  spir- 
itually on  those  days  on  which  she  had 
been  accustomed  to  receive  the  commun- 
ion in  church. 


236  ANNA 

"  She  did  heartily  pity  and  pray  for 
them  who  did  separate  and  cause  divis- 
ions ;  and  though  she  was  much  dis- 
pleased with  their  courses,  as  offensive 
to  God,  scandalous  to  religion,  and  an 
inlet  of  confusion  and  impiety,  yet  in  all 
offices  of  charity  and  mercy  she  never 
made  any  difference,  but,  as  she  had  op- 
portunity, did  good  unto  all,  especially 
to  them  of  the  household  of  faith. 

"  She  divided  the  twenty-four  hours 
into  three  parts,  allotting  five  for  devo- 
tion, ten  for  necessary  refreshment,  nine 
for  business ;  her  hours  of  devotion  were 
from  five  to  seven  in  the  morning,  from 
one  in  the  afternoon  to  two,  from  six  to 
seven,  and  from  nine  to  ten. 

"  This  order  she  carefully  observed  ; 
and  if  at  any  time  she  was  diverted  from 
observing  the  hours  of  devotion,  she 
made  it  up  from  the  other  divisions  ;  yet 
she  did  not  confine  her  devotion  to  these 
stated  hours  ;  but  all  the  day  long,  how- 
ever employed,  she  endeavoured  to  keep 
up  a  spiritual  frame  ;  and  in  the  night- 
time, when  she  did  awake,  she  was  still 
with  God,  and  had  then  her  meditations, 
her  songs  and  prayers. 

"  She  was  ever  employed,  either  in 
doing  or  reaping  good.  In  the  summer 
season  she  vied  with  the  bee  or  ant  in 
gathering  herbs,  flowers,  worms,  snails, 
&c,  for  the  still  or  limbeck,  for  the 
mortar  or  boiling  pan,  and  was  ordinarily 
then  in  a  dress  fitted  for  her  still-house, 
making  preparations  of  extracted  waters, 


LADY  HALKET.  237 

spirits,  ointments,  conserves,  powders, 
salves,  &c,  which  she  ministered  every 
"Wednesday  to  a  multitude  of  poor  infirm 
persons,  besides  what  she  daily  sent 
abroad  to  persons  of  all  ranks,  who  con- 
sulted her  in  their  maladies. 

"  Notwithstanding  of  her  many  diffi- 
culties, she  was  generally  of  a  cheerful 
temper,  pleasant  countenance,  and  al- 
ways of  an  obliging  behaviour,  which 
proceeded  from  a  pure  heart,  a  good  con- 
science, and  unfeigned  faith  and  charity. 

"  She  was  swift  to  hear,  slow  to  speak, 
and  when  she  spoke  it  was  with  grace, 
ever  projecting  to  make  others  better  by 
her  converse,  yet  managing  it  in  such  a 
humble  manner  as  if  she  designed  rather 
to  receive  than  to  give  instruction. 

"  She  had  a  singular  dexterity  to  di- 
vert and  shuffle  out  unprofitable  talking, 
and  introduce  serious  discourse ;  which 
if  she  could  not  effect,  she  would  then 
pleasantly  converse  with  God  and  her 
own  soul,  in  the  midst  of  company,  with- 
out discovering  herself,  or  disturbing 
them. 

"  She  was  equally  eminent  both  for 
the  contemplative,  active,  or  practical 
part  of  Christianity  ;  contemplation  had 
so  spiritualized  her  mind,  that  almost 
every  object  suggested  pious  thoughts 
to  her. 

"For  instance  :  one  day,  sitting  alone 
in  an  arbour  at  Charleton,  in  a  very 
stormy  day,  where  the  trees  round  about 
her   cracked  with   the  violence  of  the 


238  ANNA 

roaring  wind,  though  she  heard  the  noise 
and  saw  the  effects  of  the  storm,  yet  she 
enjoyed  as  serene  a  calm  as  if  no  storm 
had  been  in  the  air ;  upon  which  she  re- 
flected on  the  great  peace  and  tranquillity 
of  a  good  conscience,  and  the  safety  and 
security  of  being  under  the  shadow  of 
the  Almighty.     Ps.  xlvi.  1,   and  xci.  1. 

"  Observing  a  sheep  feeding  pleasantly 
among  thorns,  at  a  distance  from  the 
flock,  she  thought  it  an  emblem  of  her 
own  state  ;  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land, 
far  from  her  nearest  relatives,  encom- 
passed with  difficulties,  yet,  through  the 
mercy  of  God,  finding  a  pleasant  pasture, 
and  enjoying  a  cheerful  and  undisturbed 
mind. 

"  Observing  the  long  twigs  of  honey- 
suckles look  withered-like,  and  yet  at 
the  top  flourish  with  leaves  and  flowers, 
it  raised  her  thoughts  to  admire  the  grace 
of  God,  which  can  put  life  in  a  withered 
stock  and  make  it  flourish. 

M  Beating  sugar,  her  reflection  was, 
how  happy  I,  if  the  many  strokes  I  have 
met  with  did  refine  me,  subdue  every 
gross  part,  and  make  me  wholly  fit  for 
my  Master's  use. 

"  Observing  a  pitcher  while  empty  to 
float,  but  as  it  received  water  to  sink, 
her  reflection  was,  '  The  more  grace,  the 
more  humility.' 

"  Looking  on  a  map,  which  she  used 
as  a  screen,  and  observing  many  cross 
lines  :  if  (thought  she)  the  geographer 
had  such  skill  to  make  all  these  cross 


LADY    HALKET.  239 

lines  concur  to  discover  the  usefulness 
of  his  art  for  the  help  and  direction  of 
navigators,  how  much  more  can  the 
great  Maker  of  the  universe  order  all 
the  most  cross  dispensations  to  be  useful 
for  our  direction  in  our  Christian  jour- 
ney, &c. 

"  Observing  the  bees  sucking  and 
working  upon  the  flowers  which  grew  at 
her  husband's  grave,  her  thoughts  sug- 
gested to  her,  in  imitation  of  them,  to 
draw  instruction  from  that  monument  of 
mortality. 

"  Looking  on  her  own  picture  drawn 
at  large  with  her  sister,  as  two  shepherd- 
esses, the  posture  in  which  she  found 
herself  drawn,  with  her  right  elbow  lean- 
ing on  a  rock,  carelessly  stretching  forth 
her  hand  to  a  stream  of  water  which 
gushed  out  of  a  grot,  fell  on  her  hand, 
and  immediately  fell  off,  this  represented 
to  her  the  hieroglyphic  of  her  life  :  she 
had  found  earthly  comforts  unstable  as 
water,  and  therefore  not  much  to  be  re- 
garded, but  to  be  let  come  and  go  without 
concern  ;  and  her  only  support,  under  all 
the  varieties  of  troubles  and  disappoint- 
ments, had  been  her  leaning  on  that 
Rock  of  Ages,  whence  she  had  sucked 
honey  and  oil  to  sweeten  and  soften  all 
crossest  dispensations,  adding,  4  The 
Lord  liveth,  and  blessed  be  my  Rock, 
and  exalted  be  the  God  of  the  Rock  of 
my  Salvation.'    2  Sam.  xxii.  47. 

"  When  at  Edinburgh,  she  saw  repre- 
sented in  a  picture  the  sad  fate  of  De 


240  ANNA    LADY    HALKET. 

Witt,  butchered  by  a  mutinous  rabble, 
who  but  a  little  before  owned  him  for 
their  tutelar  angel ;  on  which  occasion 
she  reflected  on  the  mutability  of  all 
things,  the  inconstancy  of  a  giddy  multi- 
tude, the  horrid  cruelties  to  which  men's 
passions  lead  them ;  and  withal  rever- 
enced the  unsearchable  wisdom  of  God, 
who  sometimes  leaves  the  madness  of 
the  people  without  restraint,  and  brings 
the  wise  and  mighty  to  contempt  and 
misery. 

"  There  was  nothing  of  moment,  either 
in  public  or  private  occurrences,  that 
came  to  her  notice,  which  she  did  not 
make  the  subject  of  a  serious  meditation 
and  reflection. 

"  These  she  was  accustomed  to  write 
down  after  her  private  and  family  devo- 
tion, when  her  mind  was  in  a  more  ele- 
vated frame,  or  else  at  such  hours  when 
her  soul,  being  weary  of  secular  affairs, 
desired  a  retreat  from  the  world ;  or  when 
the  incumbrances  thereof  were  pressing 
upon  her;  upon  such  like  occasions  she 
relieved,  refreshed  and  recruited  her 
spirits  by  holy  meditations. 

"  This  exercise  she  carried  on  with  so 
great  secrecy,  that  none  knew  of  it ;  and 
it  was  but  a  few  years  before  her  death 
that  she  made  known  to  some  in  whom 
she  reposed  great  confidence,  that  she 
had  written  such  books,  being  moved  to 
make  the  discovery  by  hearing  of  several 
persons  who  died  suddenly  ;  yet  she  im- 
parted this  secret  with  bashfulness  and 


LADY    JANE    CHEYNE  241 

reluctancy,  occasioned  by  her  modesty 
and  great  humility." 

These  books  were  twenty-one  in  num- 
ber, written  between  1644,  when  she  was 
in  her  23d  year,  and  1699,  the  year  in 
which  she  died,  being  then  78.  They 
treat  of  a  variety  of  subjects,  all  of  a  re- 
ligious nature,  many  of  them  on  passages 
or  books  of  the  Scriptures. 

In  the  small  volume  of  her  Meditations 
to  which  her  Life  is  prefixed,  are  con- 
tained, besides  those  upon  the  25th 
Psalm,  "  Meditations  and  Prayers  upon 
the  first  Week,  with  Observations  on 
each  Day's  Creation,  and  Considerations 
on  the  Seven  Capital  Vices  to  be  op- 
posed, and  their  opposite  Virtues  to  be 
studied  and  practised."  These  wrere 
written  in  1663. 


LADY  JANE  CHEYNE. 

Lady  Jane  Cavendish  was  the  eld- 
est daughter  of  William,  Marquis,  after- 
wards Duke,  of  Newcastle,  and  was 
brought  up  in  her  infant  years  at  Wel- 
beck,  the  princely  abode  of  her  father. 
Her  mother  took  much  pains  with  her 
education,  and  she  was  the  favourite  of 
her  grandmother,  Lady  Ogle. 

"  She  had  a  naturally  sweet  and  even 
disposition,  which,  being  cultivated  by 
good  training,  produced  an  even  course 
of  goodness.     "  Her  soft  yielding  com- 


242  LADY    JANE    CHEYNE. 

pliance,  backed  with  magnanimity,  was 
like  polished  marble,  smooth  and  strong." 
During  her  youth,  she  took  much  de- 
light in  her  father's  writings,  and  left  a 
good  stock  of  her  own,  for  she  loved  to 
spend  her  leisure  in  writing  pious  medi- 
tations, as  well  as  in  reading  good  dis- 
courses. From  her  youth  to  her  death- 
bed, she  failed  not  of  prayer  thrice  a 
day  ;  or  if  her  time  was  interfered  with 
in  the  morning,  or  at  noon,  she  failed  not 
to  make  it  up  at  night.  Whilst  her 
father  was  abroad,  she  and  one  of  her 
sisters  were  in  a  house  of  his,  garrisoned 
against  the  rebels,  and  after  showing  her 
courage  and  loyalty  during  the  siege,  she 
became  a  prisoner  there  upon  the  house 
being  taken.  The  treatment  received 
by  her  and  her  sister,  was  not  such  as 
might  have  seemed  due  to  their  rank  and 
tender  age  ;  but  upon  the  retaking  of 
the  house  by  the  king's  forces,  she  be- 
came petitioner,  to  save  her  jailer's  life. 
Her  troubles  did  not  end  here  ;  her 
mother  died  soon  after.  Her  father,  to 
the  surprise  and  sorrow  of  the  king  and 
of  his  friends,  suddenly  left  England 
after  his  defeat  at  Marston  Moor.  He, 
as  well  as  her  brother,  were  banished 
and  proscribed,  their  estates  seized,  and 
she  was  left  to  struggle  with  all  her  dis- 
stresses.  The  losses  of  the  Marquis 
were  reckoned,  together  with  the  sums 
that  he  had  spent  in  the  king's  service, 
at  more  than  66700,000.  When  the  fifths 
were  allowed  to    those  whose   estates 


LADY    JANE   CHETNE.  243 

had  been  seized,  Lady  Jane  became  a 
solicitor  for  her  father  and  brothers,  with 
much  difficulty  obtaining  pardon  for 
their  lives  ;  and  when  she  found  that  all 
she  could  obtain  was  not  enough  for  her 
father's  support  in  his  exile,  she  sold  her 
own  plate  and  jewels  given  her  by  her 
father  and  grandmother,  and  sent  over 
the  money  to  him. 

Her  filial  duty  in  this  instance  was  af- 
terwards made  known  by  Margaret  Lu- 
cas, whom  the  marquis  married  abroad. 
This  lady  having  had  an  excellent  edu- 
cation, devoted  her  life  in  a  great  meas- 
ure to  literary  pursuits,  combined  with 
which,  she  imbibed  unvarying  loyalty 
from  her  family.  She  was  maid  of  hon- 
our to  Queen  Henrietta,  and  attended 
her  when  she  left  England.  At  Paris, 
she  met  with  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle, 
and  was  married  to  him  in  1645,  after 
which  time  they  lived  in  such  a  manner 
as  might  best  suit  his  ruined  fortunes, 
residing  chiefly  at  Antwerp.  Their  lit- 
erary employments  were  their  chief 
amusement ;  but  she  was  obliged  at  one 
time  to  come  over  to  England,  to  try  to 
procure  some  grant  for  the  Marquis  out 
of  his  estates  :  in  this  attempt  she  was 
unsuccessful,  but  received  liberal  assist- 
ance from  her  own  and  her  husband's 
relations,  with  which  supply  she  return- 
ed to  him,  and  they  lived  abroad  till  the 
Restoration.  They  survived  it  many 
years,  both  living  to  a  great  age.  Her 
compositions  in  prose    and  verse  were 


244  LADY    JANE    CHETNE. 

very  numerous ;  and  after  her  return  to 
England  with  her  husband,  they  lived 
chiefly  in  retirement  on  his  estates. 

The  Marchioness  also  related  of  Lady 
Jane  that  she  would  not  engage  herself 
in  marriage  till  she  had  obtained  permis- 
sion from  her  intended  husband  to  send 
over  to  her  father  a  considerable  share 
of  her  own  fortune  ;  which  afterwards, 
on  being  restored  to  his  estates,  he  re- 
paid. 

In  deciding  upon  her  marriage,  which 
her  father's  absence  left  to  her  own 
choice,  though  not  without  his  consent 
sanctioning  it,  she  resolved  to  enter  into 
no  family  which  had  ill-treated  her  king 
and  her  father,  however  advantageous 
might  be  the  offer.  But  she  accepted 
of  Mr.  Charles  Cheyne,  or  Cheney,  a 
gentleman  of  ancient  family,  in  whose 
principles  she  could  trust ;  nor  did  her 
expectations  deceive  her,  for  she  lived 
happily  with  him  at  Chelsea  for  nearly 
fifteen  years,  employing  herself  in  char- 
itable works,  working  with  her  needle 
when  not  busied  with  her  books  and 
writing,  and  continuing  her  religious 
course,  in  which  she  loved  to  observe 
the  fasts  of  the  Church,  as  far  as  the 
tenderness  of  her  constitution  permitted. 
If  she  had  any  quarrel  with  the  place,  it 
was  from  the  multitude  of  formal  visits 
which  she  could  not  avoid  receiving  from 
London  and  returning. 

In  her  last  sickness,  her  sufferings 
were  not   often    severe,    and  she   was 


LADY    JANE    CHEYNE.  245 

spared  what  she  naturally  dreaded — 
extreme  pain  ;  for  during  the  fits  which 
came  upon  her,  her  senses  were  lost  for 
the  time  ;  in  her  intervals  of  speech,  she 
used  it  mostly  in  devotion,  and  in  many 
gentle,  cheerful,  and  obliging  expressions 
to  her  husband,  children,  doctors,  and 
other  her  mournful  attendants. 

In  the  three  weeks'  interval,  during 
which  there  were  good  hopes  of  her  re- 
covery, M  she  used  often  to  say,  that 
though  she  resigned  herself  wholly  to 
the  wise  disposal  of  a  good  God,  yet  she, 
being  in  expectation  of  being  called 
away  in  her  first  fits,  looked  upon  her 
recovery  as  a  gracious  kind  of  disap- 
pointment (these  were  her  own  words) 
by  God  Almighty.  This  she  did,  (she 
said,)  not  out  of  discontent  at  her  sick- 
ness, which  she  thankfully  acknowledged 
was  tolerably  easy,  but  (as  having  con- 
quered the  world,  and  being  now  in  her 
passage  to  a  better)  out  of  her  intuition 
of  a  glorious  crown,  that,  she  trusted, 
awaited  her  in  heaven." 

M  Now  was  the  time,  when  all  the 
powers  of  her  soul,  all  her  virtues  and 
graces,  were  summoned  together  with 
united  force,  to  make  up  the  complement 
of  her  devotions ;  wherein  she  professed, 
to  the  equal  comfort  and  grief  of  those 
that  heard  her,  her  confidence  in  God, 
her  patient  submission  to  Him,  her  holy 
resignation,  her  indifference  to  life,  and 
her  preparedness  to  die  ;  of  which, 
amongst  many  others,  there  were  two 


246  LADY    JANE    CHEYNE. 

remarkable  instances  :  one  to  a  reverend 
father  of  our  Church,  whom  she  told 
with  great  unconcernedness,  as  he  was 
discoursing  piously  to  her,  that  she  was 
not  afraid  to  die  ;  not  that  she  had  or 
feared  any  trouble  or  discontent  here, 
but  that  she  might  enjoy  the  blessings 
of  that  better  world  ;  the  other,  to 
her  sad  and  afflicted  husband,  whom,  as 
he  was  at  her  bedside  praying  to  God 
that  He  would  restore  her  again  to  health, 
that  she  might  live  and  glorify  Him, 
when  those  that  went  down  into  the  pit 
could  not  praise  Him,  she  stopped  him 
in  his  prayer,  and  with  a  comfortable 
look  and  strong  voice  (though  a  great 
difficulty  of  speech  had  some  time  before 
possessed  her)  said,  '  She  would  glorify 
God,  whether  she  lived  or  died  ;'  and 
then  recommended  her  children  to  his 
care. 

"  These  dear  children  of  hers,  as  she 
often  had  in  health,  so  she  did  now  more 
frequently  in  her  sickness,  instruct, 
charging  them  to  apply  themselves  much 
to  reading  ;  especially  to  be  diligent  in 
constant  prayers  to  God,  to  be  observant 
to  their  dear  father,  and  transferring  that 
obedience  they  had  to  herself  upon  him, 
to  pay  him  now  a  double  duty,  and  to 
be  entirely  loving  to  one  another  :  then, 
and  not  else,  they  might  assure  them- 
selves of  all  good  things  from  God  and 
their  father ;  further  enjoining  them  to 
be  respectful  to  those  that  had  the  charge 
of  them,  and  ever  to  give  ear  to  their 


LADY    JANE    CHEYNE.  247 

just  and  virtuous  advices,  and  carefully 
to  decline  the  company  of  vain  and  im- 
pertinent persons. 

"  As  it  was  her  only  trouble,  in  all  her 
sickness,  that  her  indisposition  made  her 
incapable  of  giving  that  attendance  to 
the  offices  of  religion,  praying,  medi- 
tating, reading,  as  she  used  to  do ;  so,  in 
the  close,  it  was  the  great  affliction  of  all 
about  her,  and  that  which  of  any  thing- 
she  herself  showed  most  sense  of,  that 
her  speech  failed  her  ;  upon  the  loss  of 
which,  she  had  no  other  means  of  ex- 
pressing those  pious  ejaculations  she  in 
her  last  sickness  incessantly  poured 
forth  ;  but  by  sighs,  and  eyes  and  hands 
lifted  up  to  heaven,  whither  we  may 
presume  she  is  gone,  to  increase  the 
number  of  saints,  whom  the  Church  this 
day  commemorates,  and  to  enter  into  the 
joy  of  her  Saviour." 

Her  funeral  sermon  was  preached  at 
Chelsea,  on  All  Saints'  Day,  1669,  by 
Dr.  Adam  Littleton.  She  died  in  her 
forty-eighth  year,  leaving  three  children, 
one  of  whom  died  soon  after,  and  was 
buried  with  her  ;  as  was  also  her  hus- 
band, about  thirty  years  afterwards,  be- 
ing then  Viscount  Newhaven. 

Lady  Elizabeth  Cavendish,  sister 
to  Lady  Jane,  was  married  to  the  Earl 
of  Bridgwater,  and  is  thus  mentioned  in 
his  epitaph  : 

*•  Here  lies  interred,  John,  Earl  of  Bridg- 
water, Viscount  Brackley,  Sfc. 

Who  desired   no   other   memorial   of 


248  LADY    JANE    CHEYNE. 

him,  but  only  this  :  that  having  (in  the 
nineteenth  year  of  his  age)  married  the 
Lady  Elizabeth  Cavendish,  daughter  to 
the  then  Earl,  since  Marquis,  and  after 
that  Duke  of  Newcastle ;  he  did  enjoy 
(almost  twenty-two  years)  all  the  happi- 
ness that  a  man  could  receive  in  the 
sweet  society  of  the  best  of  wives,  till  it 
pleased  God,  in  the  forty-fourth  year  of 
his  age,  to  change  his  great  felicity  into 
as  great  misery,  by  depriving  him  of  his 
truly  loving  and  entirely  beloved  wife, 
who  was  all  his  worldly  bliss.  After 
which  time,  humbly  submitting  to,  and 
waiting  on  the  will  and  pleasure  of  the 
Almighty,  he  did  sorrowfully  wear  out 
twenty-three  years,  four  months,  and 
twelve  days,  and  then,  on  the  twenty- 
sixth  day  of  October,  in  the  year  of  our 
Lord  1686,  and  in  the  sixty-fourth  year 
of  his  own  age,  yielded  up  his  soul  into 
the  merciful  hand  of  God,  who  gave  it. 
'  Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in 
Him.' — Job  xiii.  15." 

This  Earl  of  Bridgwater  is  highly 
spoken  of  by  Sir  Henry  Chauncey,  who 
knew  him  well,  and  gave  a  character  of 
him  in  his  History  of  Hertfordshire,  in 
which  he  especially  mentions  his  loyalty 
to  the  Church  of  England  and  to  the 
king.  He  was  buried  by  his  Countess, 
for  whom  he  made  an  inscription  of 
greater  length  than  that  for  himself, 
enumerating  her  children  by  name,  and 
proceeding  in  the  highest  strain  of  pa- 
negyric, in  which  mention  is  made  of 


CHARLOTTE,    ETC.  249 

her  religious  and  charitable  virtues,  as 
well  as  of  her  other  excellencies. 


CHARLOTTE 
COUNTESS  OF  DERBY. 

Charlotte  de  la  Tremouille, 
Countess  of  Derby,  cannot  be  omitted 
among  the  records  of  such  women  as 
showed  their  loyalty  in  this  time  of 
trouble  ;  her  defence  of  her  husband's 
house  during  his  absence  has  rendered 
her  one  of  the  most  celebrated  among 
Royalist  ladies.  Of  the  other  circum- 
stances of  her  life,  little  is  known  ;  she 
was  the  third  daughter  of  Claude,  Duke 
de  la  Tremouille  and  Prince  of  Talmont, 
a  peer  of  France,  and  his  wife,  Char- 
lotte, daughter  to  William,  the  first 
Prince  of  Orange,  and  must  have  been 
therefore  related  to  the  Prince  of  Orange 
who  became  King  Charles's  son-in-law. 
She  was  married  when  very  young  to 
James  Stanley,  seventh  Earl  of  Derby  ; 
and  whilst  her  after-life  proved  her  de- 
votion to  her  husband  and  to  her  adopted 
country,  it  would  seem  also  to  prove  that 
she  had  become  faithfully  attached  to 
the  English  Church. 

At  the  time  of  their  marriage,  her 
husband  was  known  by  the  title  of  Lord 
Strange,  and  most  of  his  time  was  spent 
in  the  Isle  of  Man,  where  his  father  ex- 


250  CHARLOTTE 

ercised  a  regal  power,  or  upon  the  large 
estates  possessed  by  their  family  in 
Lancashire.  His  father  had  been  dead 
only  a  few  weeks,  when  he  was  called 
from  his  peaceful  residence  at  Latham, 
to  join  the  king  at  York ;  he  was  among 
the  first  and  most  zealous  in  supporting 
the  royal  cause,  though  he  underwent 
much  disappointment  and  vexation,  from 
the  change  of  plans,  by  which  the  king's 
standard  was  set  up  at  Nottingham, 
rather  than,  as  first  intended,  at  War- 
rington. In  spite,  however,  of  the  dis- 
couragement which  this  occasioned  him, 
the  Earl  of  Derby  made  great  efforts  to 
secure  Lancashire  to  the  king,  and  fail- 
ing in  these,  he  proceeded  to  fortify  his 
house  at  Latham.  Whilst  he  was  thus 
employed,  he  received  intelligence  that 
the  rebels  had  planned  an  attack  upon 
the  Isle  of  Man,  and  immediately  sailed 
thither,  leaving  the  completion  of  his 
works  at  Latham,  and  its  defence,  to  his 
countess. 

The  enemy,  expecting  little  resist- 
ance on  her  part,  speedily  prepared  to 
attack  it.  She  meantime  provided  her- 
self with  men,  arms,  and  ammunition, 
using  all  possible  secrecy  and  diligence, 
and  finding  the  men  generally  raw  and 
undisciplined,  she  caused  them  to  be 
trained  by  several  captains,  all  being 
placed  under  the  command  of  Captain 
Farmer,  whom  she  made  the  major  of 
her  garrison,  whilst  she  kept  to  herself 
the  supreme   control.     So  secretly  had 


COUNTESS    OF    DERBY.  251 

her  preparations  been  made,  that  the 
enemy  had  advanced  within  two  miles 
of  the  house  before  they  were  aware  of 
any  opposition  being  offered,  beyond 
that  of  her  own  servants.  "  Upon  Feb. 
28th,  1644,  there  came  to  her  a  trumpet 
from  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax,  and  with  him 
a  person  of  quality,  to  desire  a  confer- 
ence with  her.  Whereupon  Sir  Thomas, 
and  some  gentlemen  with  him,  being  ad- 
mitted, the  soldiers  of  that  her  garrison, 
were  disposed  in  such  a  manner  as  might 
best  advance  the  appearance  and  opin- 
ion both  of  their  numbers  and  discipline. 
Their  commission  being  to  require  the 
delivery  of  the  house,  they  offered  her 
an  honourable  and  safe  removal,  with 
her  children,  servants,  and  goods,  (arms 
and  cannon  excepted,)  to  her  own  house 
at  Knowsley  ;  also  a  protection  to  reside 
there  free  from  any  molestation,  and  the 
one  half  of  her  lord's  estate  in  England, 
for  the  support  of  herself  and  children. 
Whereunto  she  answered,  that  she  was 
under  a  double  trust,  of  faith  to  her  hus- 
band, and  allegiance  to  her  sovereign, 
and  that  without  their  leave,  she  could 
not  give  it  up,  desiring,  therefore,  a 
month's  time  for  her  answer.  Which 
being  denied,  she  told  them  that  she 
hoped  they  would  excuse  her  if  she  pre- 
served her  honour  and  obedience,  though 
in  her  own  ruin.  Hereupon  Sir  Thomas 
Fairfax  departed  ;  and  upon  the  ques- 
tion, whether  they  should  proceed  by 
storm  or  siege,  he  gave  his  opinion  for 


252  CHARLOTTE 

the  latter,"  which  advice  was  promoted 
by  a  stratagem  of  one  of  the  garrison. 

About  fourteen  days  after  the  first 
conference,  there  came  another  sum- 
mons, calling  upon  her  to  surrender  im- 
mediately; but  the  trumpet  was  sent 
away  with  this  short  answer,  that  the 
countess  had  not  yet  forgotten  what  she 
owed  to  the  Church  of  England,  to  her 
prince,  and  to  her  lord,  and  that  till  she 
had  either  lost  her  honour  or  her  life, 
she  would  defend  that  place.  Upon  this, 
Fairfax  gave  orders  to  begin  the  siege 
in  form,  but  being  sent  upon  another 
service,  he  left  the  management  of  it  to 
Colonel  Peter  Egerton  and  Major  Mor- 
gan. 

"As  to  the  situation  of  Latham 
House,  it  stands  upon  a  flat  boggy 
ground,  encompassed  with  a  wall  of  two 
yards  thick,  without  which  is  a  moat  of 
eight  yards  wide,  and  two  yards  deep, 
upon  the  bank  of  which  moat,  betwixt 
the  wall  and  the  graff,  was  a  strong  pali- 
sade throughout.  Upon  the  walls  were 
also  nine  towers  flanking  them,  and  on 
each  tower  six  pieces  of  ordnance, 
which  played  three  one  way,  and  three 
another.  Besides  these,  there  was  in 
the  middle  of  the  house  a  high  tower, 
called  the  Eagle  Tower.  The  gate- 
house also,  being  a  strong  and  lofty 
building,  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the 
first  court.  Upon  the  top  of  all  which 
towers  stood  the  choicest  marksmen, 
(keepers,    fowlers,   and  the   like,)  who 


COUNTESS    OF    DERBY.  253 

shrewdly  galled  the  enemy,  and  cut  off 
divers  of  their  officers  in  the  trenches." 
In  order  to  disturb  the  approaches  of 
the  enemy  while  they  were  working  on 
their  line  of  circumvallation,  the  coun- 
tess ordered  a  sally  of  two  hundred  men, 
commanded  by  Major  Farmer,  who,  on 
March  12th,  drove  them  from  their 
trenches  to  their  rear  guard,  killed  about 
sixty  men,  and  took  some  prisoners,  with 
the  loss  only  of  two  of  his  men.  Upon 
this  the  assailants  doubled  their  guards, 
and  drew  their  line  at  a  greater  dis- 
tance ;  they  afterwards  ran  a  deep  trench 
near  the  moat,  where  they  raised  a  strong 
battery,  and  planted  on  it  a  mortar- 
piece,  which  cast  stones  and  grenadoes 
of  sixteen  inches  diameter.  The  first 
of  these  grenadoes  fell  close  to  the  table 
where  the  countess,  her  children,  and 
the  officers,  were  all  at  dinner  ;  it  shiver- 
ed the  room,  but  hurt  no  one.  They 
resolved  to  make  another  sally  in  order 
to  take  that  mortar,  and,  after  some  re- 
sistance, they  succeeded  in  seizing  all 
the  works  of  the  besiegers,  nailing  and 
overturning  all  their  cannon,  rolling 
them  into  the  moat,  and  carrying  the 
mortar  into  the  house.  Continuing  mas- 
ters of  the  enemy's  works  and  trenches, 
all  that  day  they  endeavoured  to  fill 
them  up  and  destroy  them  as  much  as 
might  be,  "  at  which  time  the  countess 
went  not  only  out  of  the  gates,  but  some- 
times very  near  the  trenches.  Whose 
piety  was  such  that  she  constantly  prac- 
h 


254  CHARLOTTE 

tised  to  begin  all  those  actions  with  pub- 
lic prayers,  and  to  close  them  with 
thanksgivings.  This  successful  assault 
happened  on  April  26th,  being  the  very 
day  appointed  by  the  enemy  for  a  fierce 
assault,  with  orders  to  put  every  one  to 
the  sword. 

"  It  took  the  enemy  at  least  five  or 
six  days'  time  to  repair  their  works,  and 
in  that  space  they  were  twice  dislodged 
and  scattered  by  other  vigorous  sallies. 
These  disasters  gave  Colonel  Rigby  (a 
malicious  enemy  to  the  Earl  of  Derby) 
a  colour  of  laying  the  fault  on  Colonel 
Peter  Egerton,  whereby  he  got  a  com- 
mission for  himself  to  command  in  chief, 
after  which  he  would  not  permit  so  much 
as  a  midwife  to  pass  into  the  house,  unto 
a  gentlewoman  there  in  travail,  and  in  a 
fortnight's  space  carried  on  his  work 
without  much  trouble,  for  want  of  pow- 
der in  the  house.  But  that  defect  be- 
ing supplied  by  another  sally,  the  coun- 
tess proposed  a  fresh  assault  upon  all 
their  trenches,  which  being  accordingly 
agreed  on,  Rawsthorne  had  command  of 
the  forlorn,  Farmer  of  the  battle,  and 
Chisenhale  of  the  reserve,  who  behaving 
themselves  with  their  wonted  bravery, 
beat  the  enemy  from  their  works,  clear- 
ed the  trenches,  nailed  their  great  guns, 
and  killed  a  hundred  of  their  men,  with 
the  loss  only  of  three,  and  five  or  six 
wounded. 

"  Hereupon  after  a  month's  siege, 
and  the  loss  of  about  two  thousand  men, 


COUNTESS    OF    DERBY.  255 

(by  their  own  confession,)  Rigby  sent 
the  countess  a  huffing  summons.  To 
which  she  returned  this  answer,  '  Tell 
that  insolent  rebel  Rigby.  that  if  he  pre- 
sume to  send  another  summons  within 
this  place,  I  will  have  the  messenger 
hanged  up  at  the  gates.'  " 

The  garrison  however  was  now  re- 
duced to  the  greatest  distress  ;  their  am- 
munition and  their  corn  were  spent,  and 
they  had  killed  for  food  nearly  all  their 
horses.  The  earl  hearing  of  their  dis- 
tress, hastened  from  the  Isle  of  Man  to 
beg  assistance  from  the  king ;  upon 
which,  orders  were  given  that  Prince 
Rupert  should  take  Lancashire  in  his 
way  to  York ;  but  no  sooner  did  Colonel 
Rigby  hear  that  the  prince  had  entered 
the  county  than  he  raised  the  siege,  on 
May  27th,  1644,  and  marched  to  Bolton, 
to  which  place  Prince  Rupert  followed 
him,  and  took  the  town,  sending  all  the 
colours  that  fell  into  his  hands  to  the 
countess  at  Latham.  He  spent  several 
days  with  her  at  the  house  soon  afterwards, 
and  left  directions  for  repairing  and  forti- 
fying it,  leaving  its  command,  at  her  de- 
sire, to  Captain  Edward  Rawsthorne, 
whom  he  made  colonel  of  a  foot  regiment, 
and  left  her  troops  of  horse  for  its  defence. 
By  Captain  Rawsthorne  the  house  was 
stoutly  defended  for  full  two  years  more 
in  a  second  siege,  but  at  last  by  the 
king's  orders  he  delivered  it  up,  having 
cost  the  enemy  no  less  than  six  thousand 
men,  and  the  garrison  about  four  hun- 
h  2 


256  CHARLOTTE 

dred,  it  being  one  of  the  last  places  in 
the  kingdom  which  held  out  for  the 
king.  When  Prince  Rupert  had  provi- 
ded for  the  defence  of  Latham,  the  earl 
returned  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  where  his 
presence  was  greatly  needed,  taking 
with  him  his  wife  and  children ;  but 
some  of  his  children  whom  he  sent  over 
into  England  were  soon  afterwards  seiz- 
ed and  imprisoned  by  orders  from  the 
House  of  Commons  ;  it  was  offered  to 
restore  them  to  him,  and  allow  him 
peaceable  possession  of  his  whole  es- 
tates, if  he  would  deliver  the  island  into 
their  hands.  In  answer  to  this  proposal 
he  wrote  the  well-known  letter  to  Ire- 
ton. 

He  remained  in  the  Isle  of  Man  till 
1651,  when  Charles  II.  summoned  him 
to  his  assistance,  and  after  fighting  with 
his  usual  valour  at  the  battle  of  Wor- 
cester, he  directed  the  king  to  a  place  of 
safe  concealment,  and  parting  from  him, 
hastened  towards  his  own  country,  but 
was  attacked  by  a  party  of  the  enemy, 
to  whom  he  surrendered  under  promise 
of  quarter.  The  parliament,  however, 
sent  down  a  commission  to  try  him,  and 
he  was  sentenced  to  death.  Before  he 
was  beheaded  he  wrote  a  farewell  letter 
from  Chester  to  his  wife,  and  to  his 
three  children,  who  were  with  her. 

My  dear  Heart, 

"  I  have  heretofore  sent  you  comfort- 
able lines,  but,   alas  !    I  have  now  no 


COUNTESS  OF  DERBY.  257 

word  of  comfort,  saving  to  our  last  and 
best  Refuge,  which  is  Almighty  God,  to 
whose  will  we  must  submit ;  and  when 
we  consider  how  he  hath  disposed  of 
these  nations  and  the  government  there- 
of, we  have  no  more  to  do  but  to  lay  our 
hands  upon  our  mouths,  judging  our- 
selves, and  acknowledging  our  sins,  join- 
ed with  others,  to  have  been  the  cause 
of  these  miseries,  and  to  call  on  him  with 
tears  for  mercy. 

"  The  governor  of  this  place,  Colonel 
Ducken  field,  is  general  of  the  forces 
which  are  now  going  against  the  Isle  of 
Man  ;  and,  however  you  might  do  for 
the  present,  in  time  it  would  be  a  griev- 
ous and  troublesome  thing  to  resist,  es- 
pecially those  that  at  this  hour  command 
the  three  nations  ;  wherefore  my  advice, 
notwithstanding  my  great  affection  to 
that  place,  is,  that  you  would  make  con- 
ditions for  yourself  and  servants,  and 
children,  and  people  there,  and  such  as 
came  over  with  me,  to  the  end  you  may 
get  to  some  place  of  rest,  where  you 
may  not  be  concerned  in  war,  and  taking 
thought  of  your  poor  children,  you  may 
in  some  sort  provide  for  them :  thus 
prepare  yourself  to  come  to  your  friends 
above,  in  that  blessed  place  where  bliss 
is,  and  no  mingling  of  opinion. 

"  I  conjure  you,  my  dearest  Heart, 
by  all  those  graces  that  God  hath  given 
you,  that  you  exercise  your  patience  in 
this  great  and  strange  trial.  If  harm 
come  to  you,  then  I  am  dead  indeed  ; 
h3 


258  CHARLOTTE 

and  until  then  I  shall  live  in  you,  who 
are  truly  the  best  part  of  myself.  When 
there  is  no  such  as  I  in  being,'  then  look 
upon  yourself  and  my  poor  children  ; 
then  take  comfort,  and  God  will  bless 
you.  I  acknowledge  the  great  goodness 
of  God  to  have  given  me  such  a  wife  as 
you — so  great  an  honour  to  my  family — 
so  excellent  a  companion  to  me — so  pi- 
ous— so  much  of  all  that  can  be  said  of 
good,  I  must  confess  it  impossible  to  say 
enough  thereof.  I  ask  God  pardon  with 
all  my  soul  that  I  have  not  been  enough 
thankful  for  so  great  a  benefit ;  and 
where  I  have  done  any  thing  at  any  time 
that  might  justly  offend  you,  with  joined 
hands  I  also  ask  your  pardon.  I  have 
no  more  to  say  to  you  at  this  time  than 
my  prayers  for  the  Almighty's  blessing 
to  you,  my  dear  Mall,  and  Ned,  and 
Billy.     Amen,  sweet  Jesus  !" 

To  Lady  Mary  Stanley,  Edward  and 
William  Stanley. 

Chester,  Oct.  13th,  1651. 
"  Dear  Mall,  my  Ned,  and  Billy, 

11  I  remember  well  how  sad  you  were 
to  part  with  me  ;  but  now,  I  fear,  your 
sorrow  will  be  greatly  increased  to  be 
informed  that  you  can  never  see  me 
more  in  this  world  :  but  I  charge  you  all 
to  strive  against  too  great  a  sorrow  ;  you 
are  all  of  you  of  that  temper  that  it 
would  do  you  much  harm  ;  and  my  de- 
sires and  prayers  to  God  are,  that  you 
may  have  a  happy  life  ;  let  it  be  as  holy 


COUNTESS   OF  DERBY.  259 

a  life  as  you  can,  and  as  little  sinful  as 
you  can  avoid  or  prevent. 

"  I  can  well  now  give  you  that  coun- 
sel, having  in  myself,  at  this  time,  so 
great  sense  of  the  vanities  of  my  life, 
which  fill  my  soul  with  sorrow  ;  yet,  I 
rejoice  to  remember,  that  when  I  have 
blest  God  with  pious  devotion,  it  has 
been  most  delightful  to  my  soul,  and 
must  be  my  eternal  happiness. 

"  Love  the  archdeacon — he  will  give 
you  good  precepts.  Obey  your  mother 
with  cheerfulness,  and  grieve  her  not, 
for  she  is  your  example,  your  nurse, 
your  counsellor,  your  all  under  God  ; 
there  never  was,  nor  never  can  be,  a 
more  deserving  person. 

"  I  am  called  away,  and  this  is  the 
last  time  I  shall  write  to  you.  The 
Lord  my  God  bless  you,  and  guard  you 
from  all  evil !  So  prays  your  father  at 
this  time,  whose  sorrow  is  inexorable  to 
part  with  Mall,  Neddy,  and  Billy.  Re- 
member "  Derby." 

At  Bolton,  shortly  before  his  execu- 
tion, he  had  his  farewell  interview  with 
his  son,  Lord  Strange,  whom  he  public- 
ly charged  to  be  dutiful  to  his  sad 
mother,  affectionate  to  his  distressed 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  studious  of  the 
peace  of  his  country  ;  ".But  especially," 
said  he,  "  Son,  I  charge  you  upon  my 
blessing,  and  upon  the  blessings  you  ex- 
pect from  God,  to  be  ever  dutiful  to  your 
distressed  mother,  ever  obedient  to  her 
h  4 


260  CHARLOTTE 

commands,  and  ever  tender  how  you  in 
any  thing  grieve  or  offend  her.  She  is  a 
person  well  known  to  the  most  eminent 
personages  of  England,  France,  Ger- 
many, and  Holland  ;  noted  for  piety, 
prudence,  and  all  honourable  virtues ; 
and  certainly  the  more  you  are  obedient 
unto  her,  the  more  you  will  increase  in 
favour  with  God  and  man." 

His  affectionate  remembrance  of  his 
wife  and  children  to  the  last  is  shown  in 
the  narrative  of  his  death  written  by 
Mr.  Bagaley,  one  of  his  gentlemen,  who 
was  allowed  to  attend  him  to  the  scaf- 
fold.* 

The  countess,  on  hearing  of  her  hus- 
band's death,  retired  into  Castle  Rushen, 
where  she  resolved  to  defend  herself  to 
the  last  extremity.  She  was  however 
prevented  from  fulfilling  this  resolution 
by  the  conduct  of  William  Christian,  a 
native  of  the  island,  who  with  his  family 
had  been  formerly  opposed  to  the  earl 
in  some  of  his  measures  of  government ; 
immediately  after  his  death  Christian 
communicated  with  Colonel  Ducken- 
field,  when  he  came  with  several  armed 
vessels  to  invade  the  island,  and  upon 
the  agreement  made  with  him  by  Chris- 
tian and  his  party,  it  was  surrendered 
into  his  hands.  The  countess  was  de- 
tained in  prison  with  those  of  her  chil- 
dren   who  were  with  her,  where  they 


*  See  Bagaley's  Narrative  at  the  end  of  the 
Life. 


COUNTESS  OF    DERBY.  261 

are  said  to  have  suffered  great  want,  and 
to  have  been  relieved  by  assistance  sent 
from  their  friends. 

In  September,  1662,  William  Chris- 
tian was  brought  to  a  trial  in  the  Isle  of 
Man  upon  a  mandate  issued  by  Charles, 
then  Earl  of  Derby,  and  being  found 
guilty  of  betraying  the  island  to  the 
Commonwealth's  men,  he  was  shot  in 
the  month  of  January  following.  It 
appears  that  the  English  government 
did  not  allow  the  extent  of  power  which 
enabled  the  Earl  of  Derby,  as  Lord  of 
Man,  to  execute  a  sentence  of  death, 
and  that  he  was  in  consequence  sen- 
tenced to  pay  a  heavy  line.  This  his- 
tory, commonly  known  by  its  being  al- 
luded to  in  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  has  led 
to  an  impression  of  revengeful  feeling  on 
the  part  of  the  widowed  countess,  most 
distant  from  the  last  wishes  of  her  hus- 
band, or  from  the  character  which  he  at- 
tributed to  her  ;  but  there  appears  no 
evidence  that  Christian's  death  was  other 
than  an  action  supposed  to  be  a  just  and 
legal  punishment  by  those  who  decided 
upon  it,  nor  that  the  countess  had  any 
part  in  the  matter,  since  her  son  would 
seem  to  have  been  at  that  time  of  an  age 
to  act  for  himself.  In  1658  he  fought 
on  the  king's  part  ;  after  the  restoration 
he  was  appointed  Lord  Lieutenant  of 
Lancashire,  and  in  the  proceedings 
against  Christian  her  name  is  only  men- 
tioned with  reference  to  his  having  be- 
trayed her  to  her  enemies,  not  as  if  she 
h  5 


26*2  CHARLOTTE 

took  any  part  in  accusing  or  condemn- 
ing him. 

It  does  not  appear  whether  her  two 
daughters,  Katharine  and  Amelia,  who 
were  in  England  at  the  time  of  their 
father's  death,  were  with  her  before  the 
Restoration.  In  the  three  years  during 
which  she  survived  it,  she  lived  at 
Knowsly  Hall,  in  Lancashire,  and  was 
buried  with  her  husband,  at  Ormskirk, 
in  the  same  county,  in  March,  1663. 
Her  three  daughters  were  married  to 
the  Earl  of  Strafford,  the  Marquis  of 
Dorchester,  and  the  Earl  of  Athol. 

Her  eldest  son  Charles  married  Doro- 
thea Helena  Kirkhoven,  whose  fa- 
ther appears  to  have  been  a  native  of 
Holland,  but  her  mother  was  Countess 
of  Chesterfield.  A  funeral  sermon  in 
memory  of  this  lady  is  preserved,  in 
which  she  is  described  as  having  prac- 
tised the  duties  of  a  member  of  the  Eng- 
lish Church,,  regularly  attending  the 
common  prayer  in  her  family  as  v/ell  as 
diligent  in  her  private  devotions,  a  con- 
stant communicant,  and  remarkable  for 
her  charitable  attention  to  the  poor,  and 
for  her  domestic  virtues.  The  Sunday 
before  her  death  she  desired  to  partake 
of  the  Lord's  Supper,  which  she  did, 
with  (piiet  and  humble  devotion;  and 
enjoying  the  use  of  her  reason  to  the  last 
moment,  she  joined  fervently  in  the 
prayers  appointed  for  the  Visitation  of 
the  Sick  :  when  she  embraced  her  son 
for  the  last  time,  she  exerted  her  whole 


COUNTESS  OF  DERBY.  263 

strength  in  saying,  "  Fear  God."  She 
outlived  her  husband  thirty-one  years, 
and  was  buried  with  him  at  Ormskirk, 
in  1703. 

Narrative  of  Lord  Derby's  death,  by 
Mr.  Bagaley. 

"  Upon  Monday,  October  13th,  1651, 
my  lord  procured  me  liberty  to  wait  up- 
on him,  having  been  close  prisoner  ten 
days.  He  told  me  the  night  before,  Mr. 
Slater,  Colonel  Duckenfield's  chaplain, 
had  been  with  him  from  the  governor,  to 
persuade  his  lordship,  that  they  were 
confident  his  life  was  in  no  danger  ;  but 
his  lordship  told  me  he  heard  him  pa- 
tiently, but  did  not  believe  him  ;  for, 
says  he,  '  I  was  resolved  not  to  be  de- 
ceived with  the  vain  hopes  of  this  fading 
world.' 

"  After  we  had  talked  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  he  discoursed  his  own  com- 
mands to  me,  in  order  to  my  journey  to 
the  Isle  of  Man  ;  as  to  his  consent  to  my 
lady,  to  deliver  it  on  those  articles  his 
lordship  had  signed.  "With  many  affec- 
tionate protestations  of  his  honour  and 
respect  of  my  lady,  both  for  her  birth 
and  goodness  as  a  wife,  and  much  ten- 
derness of  his  children  there. 

"  Then  immediately  came  in  one 
Lieutenant  Smith,  a  rude  fellow,  and 
with  his  hat  on  ;  he  told  my  lord  he 
came  from  Colonel  Duckenfield,  the 
governor,  to  tell  his  lordship  he  must  be 
ready  for  his  journey  to  Bolton.  My 
h  6 


264  CHARLOTTE 

lord  replied,  •  When  would  you  have  me 
to  go  V 

"  '  To-morrow,  about  six  in  the  morn- 
ing,' said  Smith. 

" '  Well,'  said  my  lord,  '  commend  me 
to  the  governor,  and  tell  him,  by  that 
time  I  will  be  ready.' 

"Then  Smith  said,  'Doth  your  lord- 
ship know  any  friend  or  servant  that 
would  do  the  thing  that  your  lordship 
knows  of?' 

11  My  lord  replied,  'What  do  you 
mean  ?  would  you  have  me  find  one  to 
cut  off  my  head  ?' 

"  Smith  said,  '  Yes,  my  lord,  if  you 
could  have  a  friend.' 

"My  lord  said,  '  Nay,  sir,  if  those 
men  that  would  have  my  head  will  not 
find  one  to  cut  it  off,  let  it  stand  where 
it  is.  I  thank  God,  my  life  has  not  been 
so  bad  that  I  should  be  instrumental  to 
deprive  myself  of  it,  though  He  has 
been  so  merciful  to  me,  as  to  be  well-re- 
solved against  the  worst  terrors  of  death. 
And  for  me  and  my  servants,  our  ways 
have  been  to  prosecute  a  just  war  by 
honourable  and  just  means,  and  not  by 
these  ways  of  blood,  which  to  you  is  a 
trade.' 

"  Then  Smith  went  out  and  called  me 
to  him,  and  repeated  his  discourses  and 
desires  to  me.  I  only  told  him,  my 
lord  had  given  him  an  answer.  At  my 
coming  in  again,  my  lord  called  for  pen 
and  ink,  and  writ  his  last  letter  to  my 
lady,  to  my  Lady  Mary,  and  his  sons, 


COUNTESS   OF  DERBY.  2G5 

in  the  Isle  of  Man.  And  in  the  mean 
time  Monsieur  Paul  Moreau,  a  servant 
of  my  lord's,  went  and  bought  all  the 
rings  he  could  get,  and  lapped  them  up 
in  several  papers,  and  writ  within  them, 
and  made  me  superscribe  them  to  all  his 
children  and  servants.  The  rest  of  the 
day,  being  Monday,  he  spent  with  my 
Lord  Strange,  my  Lady  Katharine,  and 
my  Lady  Amelia.  At  night,  about  six, 
I  came  to  him  again,  when  the  ladies 
were  to  go  away.  And  as  we  were 
walking,  and  my  lord  telling  me  he 
would  receive  the  Sacrament  next  morn- 
ing, on  Wednesday  morning  both,  in 
came  the  aforesaid  Smith,  and  said,  '  My 
lord,  the  governor  desires  you  will  be 
ready  to  go  in  the  morning,  by  7  o'clock.' 

"  My  lord  replied,  '  Lieutenant,  pray 
tell  the  governor,  1  shall  not  have  occa- 
sion to  go  so  early  ;  by  nine  o'clock  will 
serve  my  turn,  and  by  that  time  I  will 
be  ready  :  if  he  has  not  earnester  occa- 
sions, he  may  take  his  own  hour.' 

"  That  night  I  staid,  and  at  supper 
my  lord  was  exceeding  cheerful  and 
well-composed  ;  he  drank  to  Sir  Timo- 
thy Featherstone,  (who  was  a  gentle- 
man that  suffered  at  Chester  a  week 
after  in  the  same  cause,)  and  said,  '  Sir, 
be  of  good  comfort,  I  go  willingly  before 
you,  and  God  hath  so  strengthened  me, 
that  you  shall  hear  (by  his  assistance) 
that  1  shall  so  submit,  both  as  a  Chris- 
tian and  a  soldier,  as  to  be  both  a  com- 
fort and  an  example  to  you.' 
h  7 


266  CHARLOTTE 

"  Then  he  often  remembered  my  Lady- 
Mary,  with  my  lady  his  wife,  and  his 
sons,  and  drank  to  me  and  to  all  his  ser- 
vants, especially  Andrew  Broom  ;  and 
said,  he  hoped  that  they  that  loved  him 
would  never  forsake  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren, and  he  doubted  not  but  God  would 
be  a  father  to  them,  and  provide  for 
them  after  his  death. 

"  In  the  morning  my  lord  delivered  to 
me  the  letters  for  the  island,  and  said, 
*  Here,  Bagaley,  deliver  these  with  my 
tender  affections  to  my  dear  wife,  and 
sweet  children,  which  shall  continue 
with  my  prayers  for  them  to  the  last 
minute  of  my  life.  I  have  instructed 
you  as  to  all  things  for  your  journey. 
But  as  to  that  sad  part  of  it,  (as  to  them,) 
I  can  say  nothing.  Silence  and  your 
own  looks  will  best  tell  your  message. 
The  great  God  of  heaven  direct  you, 
and  prosper  and  comfort  them  in  this 
their  great  affliction.' 

11  Then  his  lordship  took  leave  of  Sir 
Timothy  Featherstone,  much  in  the 
same,  words  as  overnight.  When  he 
came  to  the  Castle-gate,  Mr.  Crossin 
and  three  other  gentlemen,  who  were 
condemned,  came  out  of  the  dungeon 
(at  my  lord's  request  to  the  marshal) 
and  kissed  his  hand,  and  wept  to  take 
their  leave.  My  lord  said,  k  God  bless 
and  keep  you,  I  hope  my  blood  will 
satisfy  for  all  that  were  with  me,  and 
you  will  in  a  short  time  be  at  liberty  ; 
but  if  the  cruelty  of  these  men  will  not 


COUNTESS  OF  DERBY.  267 

end  there,  be  of  good  comfort,  God  will 
strengthen  you,  to  endure  to  the  last,  as 
He  has  done  me.  For  you  shall  hear  I 
die  like  a  Christian,  a  man,  and  a  sol- 
dier, and  an  obedient  subject  to  the  most 
just  and  virtuous  prince  this  day  living 
in  the  world  !' 

'*  After  we  were  out  of  town,  the  peo- 
ple weeping,  my  lord,  with  an  humble 
behaviour  and  noble  courage,  about  half 
a  mile  off,  took  leave  of  them  ;  then  of 
my  Lady  Katharine  and  Amelia,  upon 
his  knees  by  the  coach-side  (alighting 
for  that  end  from  his  horse)  and  there 
prayed  for  them,  and  saluted  them,  and 
60  parted.  This  was  the  saddest  hour  I 
ever  saw,  so  much  tenderness  and  affec- 
tion on  both  sides. 

11  That  night,  Tuesday,  October  14th, 
1651,  we  came  to  Leigh,  but  in  the  way 
thither,  his  lordship,  as  we  rode  along, 
called  me  to  him,  and  bid  me,  when  I 
should  come  into  the  Isle  of  Man,  to 
commend  me  to  the  archdeacon  there, 
and  tell  him  he  well  remembered  the 
several  discourses  that  had  passed  be- 
tween them  there,  concerning  death, 
and  the  manner  of  it ;  that  he  had  often 
said  the  thoughts  of  death  could  not 
trouble  him  in  fight,  or  with  a  sword 
in  his  hand,  but  he  feared  it  would  some- 
thing startle  him,  tamely  to  submit  to  a 
blow  on  the  scaffold.  '  But,'  said  his 
lordship,  *  Tell  the  archdeacon  from  me, 
that  I  do  now  find  in  myself  an  absolute 
change  as  to  that  opinion  ;  for  I  do  bless 
h  8 


268  CHARLOTTE 

God  for  it,  who  hath  put  this  comfort 
and  courage  into  my  soul,  that  I  can  as 
willingly  now  lay  down  my  head  upon 
the  block,  as  ever  I  did  upon  a  pillow.' 

14  My  lord  supped  a  competent  meal, 
saying  he  would  imitate  his  Saviour  :  a 
supper  should  be  his  last  act  in  this 
world,  and  indeed  his  Saviour's  own 
supper  hefore  he  came  to  his  Cross, 
which  would  be  to-morrow.  At  night 
when  he  laid  him  down  upon  the  right 
side,  with  his  hand  under  his  face,  he 
said,  '  Methinks  I  lie  like  a  monument, 
in  a  church,  and  to-morrow  I  shall  real- 
ly be  so.' 

4i  As  soon  as  he  rose  in  the  morning, 
he  put  on  a  fresh  shirt,  and  then  said, 
*  This  shall  be  my  winding  sheet,  for 
this  was  constantly  my  meditation  in 
this  action.  See,'  said  he  to  Mr.  Paul. 
4  that  it  be  not  taken  away  from  me,  for 
I  will  be  buried  in  it.' 

"  Then  he  called  for  my  Lord  Strange 
to  put  on  his  order,  and  said,  '  Charles, 
once  this  day  I  will  send  it  to  you  again 
by  Bagaley  ;  pray  return  it  to  our  gra- 
cious sovereign,  when  you  shall  be  so 
happy  as  to  see  him ;  and  say,  I  sent  it 
in  all  humility  and  gratitude,  as  I  re- 
ceived it,  spotless  and  free  from  any 
stain,  according  to  the  honourable  exam- 
ple of  my  ancestors.' 

"  Then  we  went  to  prayer,  and  my 
lord  commanded  Mr.  Greenhaugh  to  read 
the  Decalogue,  and  at  the  end  of  every 
commandment  made  his  confession,  and 


COUNTESS  OF    DERBY.  269 

then  received  absolution  and  the  sacra- 
ment ;  after  which,  and  prayers  ended, 
he  called  for  pen  and  ink,  and  wrote  his 
last  speech,  also  a  note  to  Sir  E.  S. 

"When  we  were  ready  to  go,  he  drank 
a  cup  of  beer  to  my  lady,  and  Lady 
Mary,  and  Masters,  and  Mr.  Archdeacon, 
and  all  his  friends  in  the  island  ;  and  bid 
me  remember  him  to  them,  and  tell  the 
Archdeacon  he  said  the  old  grace  he  al- 
ways used,  &c.  Then  he  would  have 
walked  into  the  church,  and  seen  Mr. 
Tildesley's  grave,  but  he  was  not  per- 
mitted, nor  to  ride  that  day  upon  his 
own  horse  ;  but  they  put  him  on  a  little 
nag,  saying  they  were  fearful  the  people 
would  rescue  his  lordship. 

*■•  As  we  were  going  in  the  middle 
way  to  Bolton,  the  wind  came  easterly, 
which  my  lord  perceived,  and  said  to 
me,  '  Bagaley,  there  is  a  great  difference 
between  you  and  me  now,  for  I  know 
where  I  shall  rest  to-night,  in  Wigan. 
with  the  prayers  and  tears  of  that  poor 
people  ;  and  every  alteration  moves  you 
of  this  world,  for  you  must  leave  me  to 
go  to  my  wife  and  children  in  the  Isle  of 
Man,  and  are  uncertain  where  you  shall 
be  ;  but  do  not  leave  until  you  see  me  bu- 
ried, which  shall  be  as  I  have  told  you.'  " 

Some  remarkable  passages  to  my  lord's 
going  to  the  scaffold,  -and  his  being 
upon  it,  with  his  last  speech  and  dying 
words. 

**  Betwixt  twelve  and  one  o'clock  on 
h  9 


270  CHARLOTTE 

Wednesday,  October  15th,  the  Earl  of 
Derby  came  to  Bolton,  guarded  with 
two  troops  of  horse,  and  a  company  of 
foot;  the  people  weeping  and  praying 
all  the  way  he  went,  even  from  the  cas- 
tle, his  prison  at  Chester,  to  the  scaffold 
at  Bolton,  where  his  soul  was  freed  from 
the  prison  of  his  body.  His  lordship 
being  to  go  to  a  house  in  Bolton,  near 
the  cross,  where  the  scaffold  was  raised, 
and  passing  by,  he  said,  '  This  must  be 
my  cross.'  And  so  going  into  a  chamber 
with  some  friends  and  servants,  bad  time 
courteously  allowed  him  by  the  com- 
mander in  chief,  till  three  o'clock  that 
day,  the  scaffold  not  being  ready,  by 
reason  the  people  in  the  town  refused  to 
strike  a  nail  in  it,  or  to  give  them  any 
assistance  ;  many  of  them  saying,  that 
since  these  wars,  they  have  had  many 
and  great  losses,  but  none  like  this,  it 
being  the  greatest  that  ever  befel  them, 
that  the  Earl  of  Derby  should  lose  his 
life  there,  and  in  such  a  manner.  His 
lordship,  as  I  told  you,  having  till  three 
o'clock  allowed  him,  I  spent  that  time 
with  those  who  were  with  him,  in  pray- 
ing with  them,  and  telling  them  how  he 
had  lived,  and  how  he  had  prepared  to 
die,  how  he  feared  it  not,  and  how  the 
Lord  had  strengthened  him  and  comfort- 
ed him  against  the  terrors  of  death  ;  and 
after  such  like  words,  he  desired  them 
to  pray  with  him  again  ;  and  after  that, 
giving  some  good  instructions  to  his  son, 
Lord  Strange,  he  desired  to  be  in  pri- 


COUNTESS  OF  DERBY.  271 

vate,  where  we  left  him  with  his  God, 
where  he  continued  upon  his  knees  a 
good  while  in  prayer.  Then  called  for 
us  again,  telling  how  willing  he  was  to 
die  and  part  with  this  world  ;  and  that 
the  fear  of  death  was  never  any  great 
trouble  to  him,  never  since  his  imprison- 
ment, though  he  had  still  two  soldiers 
with  him  night  and  day  in  the  chamber. 
Only  the  care  he  had  of  his  wife  and 
children,  and  the  fear  what  would  be- 
come of  them,  was  often  in  his  thoughts. 
But  now  he  was  satisfied  that  God  would 
be  a  husband  and  a  father  to  them,  into 
whose  hands  he  committed  them  ;  and 
so,  taking  leave  of  his  son,  and  blessing 
him,  he  called  for  the  officer,  and  told 
him  he  was  ready.  At  his  going  towards 
the  scaffold,  the  people  prayed  and  cried, 
and  cried  and  piayed.  His  lordship, 
with  a  courteous  humbleness,  said,  '  Good 
people,  I  thank  you  all ;  I  beseech  you 
pray  for  me  to  the  last.  The  God  of 
heaven  bless  you,  the  Son  of  God  bless 
you,  and  God  the  Holy  Ghost  fill  you 
with  comfort.'  And  so  coming  near  the 
scaffold,  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  ladder, 
saying,  '  I  am  not  afraid  to  go  up  here, 
though  I  am  to  die  there  ; '  and  so  he 
kissed  it,  and  went  up,  and  walking  a 
while  upon  the  scaffold,  settled  himself 
at  the  east  end  of  it,  and  made  his  ad- 
dress to  the  people  thus,  viz.  : 

"  •  I  come,  and  am  content  to  die  in 
this  town,  where  I  endeavoured  to  come 
the  last  time  I  was  in  Lancashire,  and 


272  CHARLOTTE 

to  a  place  where  I  persuaded  myself  to 
be  welcome,  in  regard  the  people  there- 
of have  reason  to  be  satisfied  in  my  love 
and  affection  to  them ;  and  that  now  they 
understand  sufficiently.  I  am  no  man 
of  blood,  as  some  have  falsely  slandered 
me,  especially  in  the  killing  of  a  captain 
in  this  town  ;  whose  death  is  now  de- 
clared on  oath,  so  as  the  time  and  place 
now  appears  under,  the  hand  of  a  Master 
in  Chancery,  besides  the  several  attest- 
ations of  a  gentleman  of  honour  in  the 
kingdom,  who  was  in  the  fight  in  this 
town,  and  of  others  of  good  report,  both 
in  the  town  and  country  ;  and  I  am  con- 
fident there  are  some  in  this  place  who 
can  witness  my  mercy  and  care,  for 
sparing  many  men's  lives  that  day. 

"  '  As  for  my  crime,  (as  some  are 
pleased  to  call  it,)  to  come  into  this 
country  with  the  king,  I  hope  it  deserves 
a  better  name  ;  for  I  did  it  in  obedience 
to  his  call,  whom  I  hold  myself  obliged 
to  obey,  according  to  the  protestation  I 
took  in  Parliament  in  his  father's  time. 
I  confess  I  love  monarchy,  and  I  love 
my  master,  Charles,  the  second  of  that 
name,  whom  I  myself  proclaimed  in  this 
country  to  be  king.  The  Lord  bless 
him  and  preserve  him ;  I  assure  you  he 
is  the  most  godly,  virtuous,  valiant,  and 
most  discreet  king  that  I  know  lives  this 
day  ;  and  I  wish  so  much  happiness  to 
this  people  after  my  death,  that  he  may 
enjoy  his  right,  and  then  they  cannot 
want  their  rights.    I  profess  here,  in  the 


COUNTESS   OF   DERBY.  273 

presence  of  God,  I  always  fought  for 
peace  ;  and  I  had  no  other  reason,  for  I 
wanted  neither  means  nor  honours,  nor 
did  I  seek  to  enlarge  either.  By  my 
king's  predecessors,  mine  were  raised  to 
a  high  condition,  it  is*well  known  to  the 
country  ;  and  it  is  as  well  known,  that 
by  his  enemies  I  am  condemned  to  suffer 
by  new  and  unknown  laws.-  The  Lord 
send  us  our  king  again,  and  our  old  laws 
again,  and  the  Lord  send  us  our  religion 
again. 

"  '  As  for  that  which  is  practised  now, 
it  has  no  name  ;  and  methinks  there  is 
more  talk  of  religion,  than  any  good  ef- 
fects of  it. 

"  '  Truly,  to  me  it  seems  I  die  for 
God,  the  king,  and  the  laws;  and  this 
makes  me  not  ashamed  of  my  life,  nor 
afraid  of  my  death.' 

"  At  which  words,  '  the  king  and  laws,* 
a  trooper  cried,  '  We  have  no  king,  and 
we  will  have  no  lords.'  Then  some  sud- 
den fear  of  mutiny  fell  among  the  sol- 
diers, and  his  lordship  was  interrupted, 
which  some  of  the  officers  were  troubled 
at,  and  his  friends  much  grieved,  his 
lordship  having  freedom  of  speech  prom- 
ised him.  His  lordship,  seeing  the 
troopers  scattered  in  the  streets,  cutting 
and  slashing  the  people  with  their  swords, 
said,  |  What's  the  matter,  gentlemen  ? 
Where's  the  guilt  ?  I  fly  not,  and  here 
is  none  to  pursue  you.'  Then  his  lord- 
ship, perceiving  he  might  not  speak 
freely,  turned  himself  to  his  servants  and 


274  CHARLOTTE 

gave  liim  his  paper,  and  commanded  him 
to  let  the  world  know  what  he  had  to 
say,  had  he  not  been  disturbed ;  which 
is  as  follows,  as  it  was  in  my  lord's  pa- 
per, under  his  own  hand  : 

"  '  My  sentence  (upon  which  I  am 
brought  hither)  was  by  a  Council  of 
War  ;  nothing  in  the  captain's  case  al- 
leged against  me  ;  which  Council  I  had 
reason  to  expect  would  have  justified  my 
plea  for  quarter,  that  being  an  ancient 
and  honourable  plea  amongst  soldiers, 
and  not  violated  (that  I  know  of)  till 
this  time,  that  I  am  made  the  first  suf- 
fering precedent,  in  this  case.  I  wish 
no  other  to  suffer  in  the  like  case.  Now 
I  must  die,  and  am  ready  to  die,  I  thank 
my  God  with  a  good  conscience,  without 
any  malice,  on  any  ground  whatever ; 
though  others  would  not  find  mercy  upon 
me,  upon  just  and  fair  grounds  ;  so  my 
Saviour  prayed  for  His  enemies,  and  so 
do  I  for  mine. 

"  '  As  for  my  faith  and  my  religion, 
thus  much  I  have  at  this  time  to  say  :  I 
profess  my  faith  to  be  in  Jesus  Christ, 
who  died  for  me,  from  whom  I  look  for 
my  salvation ;  that  is,  through  His  only 
merit  and  sufferings.  And  I  die  a  dutiful 
son  of  the  Church  of  England,  as  it  was 
established  in  my  late  Master's  time  and 
reign,  and  is  yet  professed  in  the  Isle  of 
Man,  which  is  no  little  comfort  to  me. 

"  '  I  thank  my  God  for  the  quiet  of 
my  conscience  at  this  time,  and  the  as- 
surance of  those  joys  that  are  prepared 


COUNTESS  OF    DERBY.  275 

for  those  that  fear  Him.  Good  people, 
pray  for  me  ;  I  do  for  you.  The  God 
of  heaven  bless  you  all,  and  send  you 
peace ;  that  God,  that  is  truth  itself, 
give  you  grace,  and  peace,  and  truth. 
Amen.' 

"  Presently,  after  the  uproar  was 
ceased,  his  lordship,  walking  to  the  scaf- 
fold, called  for  the  headsman,  and  asked 
to  see  the  axe,  saying,  '  Come,  friend, 
give  it  me  into  my  hand  ;  I'll  neither 
hurt  it  nor  thee,  and  it  cannot  hurt  me  ; 
I  am  not  afraid  of  it ;'  but  kissed  it,  and 
so  gave  it  to  the  headsman  again.  Then 
asked  for  the  block,  which  was  not  ready, 
and  turned  his  eyes  and  said,  '  How  long, 
Lord,  how  long!'  Then  putting  his 
hand  in  his  pocket,  gave  him  two  pieces 
of  gold,  saying,  '  This  is  all  I  have  ;  take 
it,  and  do  thy  work  well.  And  when  I 
am  upon  the  block,  and  lift  up  my  hand, 
then  do  your  work ;  but  I  doubt  your 
coat  is  too  burly,  (being  of  great  black 
shag,)  it  will  hinder  you,  or  trouble  you.' 
Some,  standing  by,  bid  him  ask  his  lord- 
ship's forgiveness  ;  but  he  was  either  too 
sullen  or  too  slow,  for  his  lordship  for- 
gave him  before  he  asked  him.  And  so 
passing  to  the  other  end  of  the  scaffold, 
where  his  coffin  lay,  spying  one  of  his 
chaplains  on  horseback  among  the  troop- 
ers, said,  •  Sir,  remember  me  to  your 
brothers  and  friends  ;  you  see  I  am 
ready,  and  the  block  is  not  ready ;  but 
when  I  am  got  into  my  chamber,  as  I 
shall  not  be  long  out  of  it,  (pointing  to 


276  CHARLOTTE,  ETC. 

his  coffin,)  I  shall  be  at  rest,  and  not 
troubled  with  such  a  guard  and  noise  as 
I  have  been;'  and  so  turning  himself 
again,  he  saw  the  block,  and  asked  if  it 
was  ready,  and  so  going  to  the  place 
where  he  began  his  speech,  said,  '  Good 
people,  I  thank  you  for  your  prayers  and 
for  your  tears.  I  have  heard  the  one, 
and  seen  the  other  ;  and  our  God  sees 
and  hears  both.  Now  the  God  of  heaven 
bless  you  all.  Amen.'  And  so  bowing, 
turned  himself  towards  the  block,  and 
then  looking  towards  the  church,  his 
lordship  caused  the  block  to  be  turned, 
and  laid  that  ways,  saying,  '  I  will  look 
towards  the  Sanctuary  which  is  above 
for  ever.'  Then,  having  his  doublet  off, 
he  asked,  l  How  must  I  lie  ?  Will  any 
one  show  me  ?  I  never  yet  saw  any 
man's  head  cut  off;  but  I  will  try  how  it 
fits.'  And  so  laying  him  down,  and 
stretching  himself  upon  it,  he  rose  again, 
and  caused  it  to  be  a  little  removed,  and 
standing  up,  and  looking  towards  the 
headsman,  said,  '  Remember  what  I  told 
you  :  when  I  lift  up  my  hands,  then  do 
your  work.' 

"  And  looking  at  his  friends  about  him, 
bowing  said,  '  The  Lord  be  with  you  all; 
pray  for  me.'  And  so  kneeling  on  his 
knees,  made  a  short  and  private  prayer, 
ending  with  the  Lord's  Prayer.  And 
so  bowing  himself  again,  said,  'The  Lord 
bless  my  wife  and  children  ;  the  Lord 
bless  us  all.'  So  laying  his  neck  upon 
the  block,  and  his  arms  stretched  out,  he 
said  these  words  aloud  : — 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  277 

"  '  Blessed  be  God's  glorious  name  for 
ever  and  ever.     Amen. 

"  '  Let  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with 
His  glory.     Amen.' 

"  And  then  lifting  up  his  hands,  was 
ready  to  give  up  the  ghost ;  but  the  ex- 
ecutioner, not  well  observing,  was  too 
slow.  So  his  lordship  rose  again,  say- 
ing, (to  the  headsman,)  'What  have  I 
done  that  I  die  not  ?  Why  do  not  you 
your  work  ?  Well,  1  will  lay  myself 
down  once  again  in  peace,  and  I  hope  I 
shall  enjoy  everlasting  peace.'  So  he 
laid  himself  down  again,  with  his  neck 
to  the  block,  and  his  arms  stretched  out, 
saying  the  same  words  :  '  Blessed  be 
God's  glorious  name  for  ever  and  ever. 
Amen.  Let  the  whole  earth  be  filled 
with  His  glory.     Amen.' 

"  And  then  lifting  up  his  hands,  the 
executioner  did  his  work,  and  no  manner 
of  noise  was  then  heard  but  sighs  and 
sobs." 


ANNE  CLIFFORD, 

COUNTESS  OF  DORSET,  PEMBROKE  AND 
MONTGOMERY. 

The  name  of  Anne  Clifford  must 
find  its  place  in  any  enumeration  of  loyal 
Cliurchwomen  ;  and  the  history  of  her 
widowhood  will  fall  within  the  scope  of 
these  notices  ;  though  of  her  long  life, 


278  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

extending  through  some  part  of  four 
reigns,  only  a  sketch  can  here  be  given. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  George  Clif- 
ford, third  Earl  of  Cumberland,  distin- 
guished in  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  and 
of  Lady  Margaret  Russel,  daughter  to 
Francis,  Earl  of  Bedford.  Anne,  the 
only  child  who  survived  them,  was  born 
at  Skipton  Castle,  in  Yorkshire,  January 
30th,  1589.  On  a  separation  taking  place 
between  her  parents,  she  remained  in 
the  charge  of  her  mother ;  and  her  father 
dying  when  she  was  eleven,  she  became 
Baroness  Clifford,  the  earldom  going  to 
another  branch  of  the  family.  She  was 
married  in  her  twenty-first  year  to 
Richard,  Earl  of  Dorset,  who  died  fifteen 
years  afterwards  ;  and  when  she  had 
passed  her  fortieth  year  she  was  married 
again  to  Philip  Herbert,  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke and  Montgomery.  Both  these 
marriages  proved  unhappy,  the  second 
more  especially,  as  Lord  Pembroke 
united  every  quality  which  could  offend 
his  high-spirited,  upright,  and  loyal  wife. 
She  was  at  length  separated  from  him  ; 
and  in  1649  his  death  set  her  at  liberty. 
Her  three  sons,  by  her  first  marriage, 
died  young;  and  two  daughters  only  re- 
mained, Margaret,  married  to  John  Tuf- 
ton,  Earl  of  Thanet  ;  and  Isabella,  to 
James  Compton,  Earl  of  Northampton. 
By  her  second  husband  she  had  no  chil- 
dren. 

When  she  entered  upon  her  second 
widowhood,    she    retired    to    her    own 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  279 

princely  estates  in  the  north,  which  she 
had  strenuously  guarded  from  alienation 
during  the  life-time  of  her  husbands,  as 
indeed  she  assigns  her  refusal  to  sell  any 
part  of  them  for  the  supply  of  Lord 
Dorset's  extravagance,  as  one  cause  of 
her  dissensions  with  him.  They  were 
now  also  freed  from  the  claims  of  the 
male  heirs  of  the  Cliffords,  who,  inherit- 
ing the  earldom,  claimed  also  some  of  the 
estates,  and  had  obtained  a  decision  in 
their  favour  from  James  I.,  to  which  the 
countess  refused  to  submit.  Upon  the 
death  of  Francis,  Earl  of  Cumberland,  in 
1643,  the  Clifford  estates  became  her 
undisputed  property,  and  she  now  added 
to  them  two  large  jointures,  one  from 
the  Earl  of  Dorset,  of  three  or  four 
thousand  a  year,  and  one  almost  equal  to 
it  from  the  Earl  of  Pembroke. 

When  she  came  in  July,  1649,  to 
Skipton  Castle,  in  Yorkshire,  the  chief 
residence  of  her  ancestors,  she  found  it 
in  great  measure  ruined  by  the  late 
wars  ;  and  early  in  the  following  spring 
she  returned  to  it  and  began  the  repairs, 
during  which  she  inhabited  a  large  oc- 
tagon chamber  communicating  with  a 
gallery,  which  was  still  entire.  !?he 
completed  her  work  in  1656,  when  she 
placed  this  inscription  over  the  gate  : 

"  This  castle  was  repaired  by  the 
Lady  Anne  Clifford.  Countess  Dowager 
of  Pembroke,  &c,  after  the  main  part 
of  it  had  lain  ruinous  ever  since  1648, 
when  it  was  demolished  almost  to  the 


280  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

ground,  by  the  Parliament  then  sitting 
at  Westminster,  because  it  had  been  a 
garrison  in  the  civil  wars.  Isa.  lviii.  12. 
Laus  Deo." 

Besides  this  great  work,  she  restored 
the  castles  of  Appleby,  Brougham, 
Brough.  and  Pendragon,  and  Barden 
Tower,  several  of  which  bad  lain  deso- 
late since  the  border  wars  with  the 
Scotch.  Of  this  undertaking,  Bishop 
Rainbow  says  in  his  sermon,  preached 
from  the  text,  "  Every  wise  woman 
buildeth  her  house,"  k'  Gratitude  to  her 
ancestors  was  another  end  of  her  build- 
ing, that  she  might  with  some  cost  hold 
up,  what  they  with  such  vast  expense 
had  founded  and  built.  Six  ancient  cas- 
tles, ample  and  magnificent,  which  her 
noble  ancestors  had  built,  and  sometimes 
held  up  with  great  honour  to  themselves 
and  security  to  their  sovereigns,  and 
hospitality  to  their  friends  and  strangers, 
now  by  the  rage  of  war,  or  time,  or  acci- 
dents, pulled  or  fallen  down,  or  made 
uninhabitable,  scarce  one  of  these  six 
that  showed  more  than  the  skeleton  of  a 
house  ;  her  reviving  spirit  put  life  into 
the  work,  made  these  scattered  stones 
come  together,  those  ruins  forsake  their 
rubbish,  and  lift  up  their  heads  to  their 
former  height.  A  marvellous  task  it  was 
which  she  undertook,  to  design  the  re- 
building of  so  many  and  such  great  fab- 
rics, to  rear  up  these,  when  the  earthly 
house  of  her  tabernacle  began  to  stoop 
and   decline,    being    about   the   sixtieth 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  281 

year  of  her  age  when  she  began  ;  who 
then  could  hope  to  finish  ?  but  when  she 
did.  consider  in  her  great  mind,  did  think 
upon  the  stones,  and  it  pitied  her  to  see 
them  in  the  dust,  her  prudence  (as  with 
her  hands)  set  in  the  work,  raised,  ce- 
mented, and  finished." 

Her  friends  advised  her  not  to  be  so 
profuse  in  building,  as  they  were  well 
assured  that  as  soon  as  she  had  built  her 
castles,  Cromwell  would  order  them  to 
be  destroyed  ;  but  she  answered,  "  Let 
him  destroy  them  if  he  will  :  but  he 
shall  surely  find  that  as  often  as  he  de- 
stroys them,  I  will  rebuild  them,  while 
he  leaves  me  a  shilling  in  my  pocket." 

Her  affairs  were  so  involved,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  late  claims  upon  her  es- 
tates, that  she  was  obliged  to  recover 
some  of  her  rights  by  a  tedious  lawsuit, 
and  the  affair  was  laid  before  Cromwell 
by  the  opposite  party,  upon  which  he 
offered  his  mediation.  The  countess  re- 
plied, that  she  would  not  accept  it, 
while  there  was  any  law  to  be  found  in 
England.  "  What,"  she  said,  "  does  he 
imagine  that  I,  who  refused  to  submit 
to  King  James,  will  submit  to  him  ?" 

Her  castles  were  not,  however,  pulled 
down,  nor  her  estates  injured,  which  was 
ascribed  by  some  persons  to  Cromwell's 
admiration  of  her  courage,  and  by  others 
to  his  fear  of  offending  her  numerous 
friends.  She  suffered  some  inconve- 
nience for  her  loyalty,  for  when  she 
came  to  Skipton  Castle,  in  1656,  it  was 


282  ANJNE    CLIFFORD. 

filled  with  soldiers  under  the  command 
of  Major  Harrison,  on  suspicion  of  her 
sending  supplies  privately  to  the  exiled 
king  ;  but  being  unable  to  prove  this, 
Harrison  could  only  dispute  with  her  on 
her  loyalty,  and  received  her  assurance 
that  she  loved  the  king,  and  that  she 
would  live  and  die  in  her  allegiance  to 
him.  As  her  religious  principles  were 
not  less  suspicious  to  the  Protector's 
government,  some  of  the  Independent 
ministers,  accompanied  by  others  better 
disposed,  came  to  her  whilst  her  castle 
was  thus  garrisoned,  which  it  was  for 
several  months,  and  examined  her  as  to 
her  religion. 

"  She  made  answer  that  her  faith  was 
built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  Proph- 
ets and  Apostles,  that  is,  upon  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  the  Word  of  God,  as  de- 
livered and  expounded  by  the  Church  of 
England,  whose  doctrine,  discipline  and 
worship,  as  by  law  established,  she  was 
bred  in,  and  had  embraced,  and  by  God's 
grace  would  persist  in  it  to  her  life's 
end." 

Finding  they  could  produce  no  effect, 
they  left  her,  one  of  them,  it  is  said, 
weeping  as  he  went,  and  she  persevered 
in  her  fidelity  to  her  Church,  refusing 
to  communicate  in  any  other  manner 
than  that  appointed  by  the  Prayer-book, 
and  rendering  all  the  assistance  in  her 
power  to  the  ejected  clergy,  particularly 
to  Dr.  King,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Chi- 
chester, and  to  Duppa  and  Morley,  both 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  2^3 

afterwards  Bishops  of  Winchester ;  to 
each  of  these  she  allowed  d£40  a  year, 
till  they  informed  her  that  whilst  living 
abroad  a  sum  of  money  would  be  of 
greater  use,  and  she  then  sent  d£l,000 
to  be  divided  among  them. 

The  parish  church  at  Skipton  had  suf- 
fered during  the  long  siege  of  the  castle, 
and  was  repaired  by  the  countess,  who, 
after  restoring  the  steeple,  placed  upon 
it  an  inscription  recording  what  she  had 
done,  and  also  placed  her  initials,  A.  P., 
in  most  of  the  windows  of  the  church. 
She  raised  within  the  chancel  a  stately 
tomb  of  black  marble,  enclosed  within 
iron  rails,  to  the  memory  of  her  father. 
For  her  own  burial  she  made  prepara- 
tion, not  in  this  church  which  had  been 
the  common  burial  place  of  her  ances- 
tors, but  in  the  chapel  at  Appleby, 
where  her  mother  was  buried  :  having 
made  a  vault  at  the  north-east  corner  of 
this  chapel,  she  raised  over  it  a  monu- 
ment of  black  and  white  marble  for  her- 
self. She  rebuilt  also  the  church  at 
Bongate,  the  chapels  of  Brougham,  Nine- 
kirk,  and  Mallerstang,  besides  founding 
and  endowing  schools  and  other  chari- 
ties. She  repaired  and  restored  an 
almshouse  at  Bethmesley,  which  had 
been  built  and  endowed  by  her  mother. 

For  her  mother's  memory  she  showed 
a  tenderness  which  is  remarkable  in  con- 
trast with  the  sterner  features  of  her 
character.  "  She  never  spoke  of  her 
but  in  terms  of  enthusiastic  veneration, 


2|4  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

and  usually  with  the  epithet,  '  my  bless- 
ed mother.'  "  Whilst  enumerating  in 
her  memoirs  the  mercies  which  had 
been  vouchsafed  to  her,  she  wrote  thus : 

44 1  must  not  forget  to  acknowledge, 
that  in  my  infancy  and  youth,  I  have 
escaped  many  dangers  both  by  fire  and 
water,"  &c,  "  and  much  the  better  by 
the  help  of  the  prayers  of  my  devout 
mother,  who  incessantly  begged  of  God 
for  my  safety  and  protection."  In  an- 
other place,  after  speaking  with  sufficient 
confidence  of  her  own  conduct  during 
the  difficulties  and  troubles  of  her  two 
marriages,  she  adds,  '"by  a  happy  ge- 
nius I  overcame  all  these  troubles,  the 
prayers  of  my  blessed  mother  helping 
me  therein." 

In  a  letter  addressed  to  her  by  George 
Herbert,  after  her  second  marriage  had 
connected  her  with  his  family,  he  wrote 
thus  :  "  A  priest's  blessing,  though  it  be 
none  of  the  court-style,  yet  doubtless, 
Madam,  can  do  you  no  hurt.  Where- 
fore the  Lord  make  good  the  blessing  of 
your  mother  upon  you,  and  cause  all  her 
wishes,  diligence,  prayers,  and  tears,  to 
bud,  blow,  and  bear  fruit  in  your  soul, 
to  His  glory,  your  own  good,  and  the 
great  joy  of, 

44  Madam, 
44  Your  most  faithful  Servant 
44  In  Christ  Jesu, 
44  George  Herbert. 

"  Dec.  10th,  1631.    Bemerton." 

Her  mother  died  soon  after  her  first 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  285 

marriage,  having  parted  from  her  seven 
weeks  before,  on  the  road  between  Pen- 
rith and  Appleby ;  and  when  she  came 
in  her  second  widowhood  to  live  in  the 
north,  she  raised  a  pillar,  still  known  in 
that  country  by  the  name  of  the  Coun- 
tess' Pillar.  "  It  is  decorated  with  her 
arms,  a  sundial  for  the  benefit  of  travel- 
lers, and  the  following  inscription  :  l  This 
pillar  was  erected  in  the  year  1656,  by 
Anne,  Countess  Dowager  of  Pembroke, 
&c,  for  a  memorial  of  her  last  parting, 
in  this  place,  with  her  good  and  pious 
mother,  Margaret,  Countess  Dowager  of 
Cumberland,  on  the  2d  of  April,  1616. 
In  memory  whereof  she  hath  left  an  an- 
nuity of  four  pounds  to  be  distributed  to 
the  poor  of  the  parish  of  Brougham  eve- 
ry 2d  day  of  April  for  ever,  upon  the 
stone  table  placed  hard  by.  Laus 
Deo.'" 

Speaking  of  this  memorial,  we  read  in 
her  funeral  sermon,  already  mentioned, 
"  One  of  the  first  things,  as  I  am  inform- 
ed, which  she  built  was,  (what  Jacob 
had  first  done,)  a  pillar.  She  built  a 
pillar,  a  monument,  which  stands  in  the 
highway,  at  the  place  where  her  en- 
deared mother  and  she  last  parted,  and 
took  their  final  farewell.  And  as  Jacob 
did,  she  poured  oil  upon  this  pillar,  the 
oil  of  charity,  pouring  down  then  and 
yearly  since,  (and  that  the  cruse  of  oil 
may  never  fail,  ordered  to  be  always 
continued,)  at  a  set  day  every  year  a 
sum  of  money,  that  oil  to  make  glad  the 


286  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

heart  of  the  poor,  and  withal  to  be  a  pre- 
cious ointment  to  perfume  her  pious 
mother's  memory,  that  her  good  name 
and  their  mutual  dearness  of  affection 
might  be  engraven  and  remembered  by 
their  posterity  and  the  poor  to  all  gene- 
rations. A  good  omen  of  a  happy  build- 
er, whose  foundations  are  charity  and 
piety,  the  sapphires  and  agates  mention- 
ed, Isa.  liv.  11." 

She  is  said  to  have  erected  the  monu- 
ment to  the  poet  Spenser  in  Westmin- 
ster Abbey  :  and  in  affectionate  remem- 
brance of  the  poet  Daniel,  who  had  been 
her  tutor,  she  raised  a  monument  to  him 
in  Beckington  Church,  in  Somerset- 
shire, commemorating  the  office  that 
he  had  filled  towards  her,  and  her  grati- 
tude in  consequence.  His  portrait  and 
that  of  her  governess,  Mrs.  Anne  Tay- 
lor, were  introduced  in  the  picture  she 
caused  to  be  painted,  representing  her- 
self and  her  family.  It  consisted  of  a 
centre  and  two  wings,  the  centre  con- 
taining portraits  of  her  father,  mother, 
and  brother,  and  each  of  the  wings  her 
own  likeness  at  different  periods  of  life, 
one  as  a  maiden  of  thirteen,  the  other  as  a 
widow  clothed  in  a  black  serge  habit,  with 
sad-coloured  hood.  In  each  of  these, 
books  are  introduced ;  in  the  back- 
ground of  the  younger  portrait  were  the 
works  of  St.  Augustine  and  Eusebius, 
Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia,  Camden, 
and  Agrippa  on  the  Vanity  of  Occult 
Sciences.  In  the  other,  the  books  are  con- 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  287 

fined,  with  the  exception  of  one  on  Dis- 
tillation and  Medicine,  to  the  Bible,  and 
Charron  on  Wisdom. 

Bishop  Rainbow  says  of  her,  "  She 
had  early  gained  a  knowledge,  as  of  the 
best  things,  so  an  ability  to  discourse  in 
all  commendable  arts  and  sciences,  as 
well  as  in  those  things  which  belong  to 
persons  of  her  birth  and  sex  to  know. 
For  she  could  discourse  with  virtuosos, 
travellers,  scholars,  merchants,  divines, 
statesmen,  and  with  good  housewives  in 
any.  kind,  insomuch  that  Dr.  Donne  is 
reported  to  have  said  of  this  lady  in  her 
younger  years,  that  she  knew  well  how 
to  discourse  of  all  things,  from  predesti- 
nation to  slea  silk.  Her  conversation 
was  not  only  useful  but  also  pleasant,  as 
she  would  frequently  bring  out  of  the 
rich  storehouse  of  her  memory  things 
new  and  old,  sentences  or  sayings  of  re- 
mark, which  she  had  read  or  learned, 
and  with  these  her  walls,  her  bed,  her 
hangings  and  furniture  were  adorned, 
for  she  caused  her  servants  to  write  them 
in  papers,  and  her  maids  to  pin  them 
up,  that  she  or  they  in  the  time  of  their 
dressing,  or  as  occasion  served,  might 
remember  and  make  their  descants  on 
them.  So  that  though  she  had  not  many 
books  in  her  chamber,  yet  it  was  dress- 
ed up  with  the  flowers  of  a  library." 

She  knew  no  language  but  her  own, 
hut  took  much  pleasure  in  reading  and 
in  being  read  to,  for  which  she  employ- 
ed two  ladies  of  education,  who  always 


288  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

lived  with  her,  and  when  her  eyes  fail- 
ed would  sometimes  employ  a  reader, 
who  marked  in  each  book  the  time 
at  which  he  began  and  ended  reading 
it. 

Her  management  of  her  household, 
for  which  she  was  especially  remarka- 
ble, is  thus  dwelt  on  at  length : 

"  As  to  her  servants  domestic,  she 
well  knew  that  they  were  pars  domus  ; 
and  how  necessary  a  part  of  the  house 
the  servants  are,  and  therefore  to  be 
kept  tight,  sustained,  and  carefully  held 
up  ;  if  in  decay,  to  be  repaired  ;  and 
therefore  this  part  of  her  house  she  was 
always  building  or  repairing,  by  the 
hand  of  her  bounty,  as  well  as  by  good 
and  religious  order  in  her  family.  In- 
deed, she  looked  on  some  (and  possibly, 
on  some  of  the  meaner  sort  of  her  trusty 
servants,  whose  offices  might  occasion 
them  nearer  attendance)  to  be  such  as 
Seneca  allows  them  to  be,  good  servants 

and  humble  friends This  heroic  lady 

would  (besides  the  necessary  discourses 
with  them  about  her  affairs)  divert  her- 
self by  familiar  conversations  with  her 
servants,  in  which  they  were  sure  (be- 
sides other  gains  from  her  bountiful 
hands)  to  gain  from  the  words  of  her 
mouth  something  of  remark,  whether 
pleasant  or  profitable,  yet  very  memora- 
ble for  some  or  other  occasion  of  life. 
So  well  did  she  observe  the  wise  man's 
caution,  Eccles.  iv.  30,  Be  not  a  lion  in 
tiiine  house  ;    intimating  that  some  are 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  289 

always  in  a  rage,  and  brawl  and  fright 
their  family  from  their  presence  ;  her 
pleasantry  and  affability  made  their 
addresses  a  great  part  of  their  prefer- 
ment. 

"  I  should  now  have  done  with  that 
part  of  economy  which  respects  her  ser- 
vants, but  that  she  had  another  way  of 
building,  as  to  them  ;  namely,  building 
them  up  in  the  most  holy  faith,  and  also 
giving  them  their  meat  in  due  season, 
that  meat  which  our  Saviour  told  his 
followers  would  not  perish,  but  endure 
to  everlasting  life.  This  spiritual  meat, 
this  lady  wisely  took  care  that  it  might 
be  provided  for  all  her  household  in  due 
season  ;  that  is,  at  the  three  seasons  in 
the  year  that  the  Church  requires  it, 
and  once  more  in  the  year  at  the  least ; 
besides  those  three  great  festivals,  she 
made  one  festival  more,  for  all  that  were 
fit  to  be  invited,  or  compelled  (as  in  the 
Gospel)  to  come  to  that  supper.  And 
that  all  might  be  fitted  and  well  pre- 
pared, she  took  care  that  several  books 
of  devotion  and  piety  might  be  provided 
four  times  in  the  year,  that  every  one 
might  take  their  chf'  ;e  of  such  book  as 
they  had  not  befor.,  by  which  means, 
those  who  had  lived  in  her  house  long, 
(and  she  seldom  turned  any  away,)  might 
be  furnished  with  books  of  religion  and 
devotion  of  every  kind.  By  these,  and 
more  instances  which  it 'were  easy  to 
produce,  it  appeared  that  this  religious- 
ly wise  lady   had   deliberately   put  on 


290  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

Joshua's  holy  resolution,  Josh.  xxiv.  15, 
'  /  and  my  house  will  serve  the  Lord  ;' 
and  might  have  the  eulogy  which  that 
memorable  queen  pronounced  of  the  best 
ordered  family  of  the  world,  1  Kings  x. 
8,  '  Happy  are  thy  men,  happy  are  these 
thy  servants,'  &c." 

She  was  most  watchful  in  the  man- 
agement of  her  affairs,  all  her  receipts 
and  disbursements  being  noted  down  in 
an  office  kept  at  each  of  her  castles, 
whilst  she  herself  kept  a  regular  account 
of  her  private  charities.  Her  economy 
and  regularity  enabled  her  to  keep  up 
the  most  liberal  hospitality. 

"  Indeed  the  whole  country,  consider- 
ing the  freedom  of  her  hospitality,  was 
in  this  sense  her  house  ;  nay,  even  all 
of  quality  that  did  pass  through  the 
country.  It  was  held  uncouth,  and  al- 
most an  incivility,  if  they  did  not  visit 
this  lady,  and  her  house,  which  stood 
conspicuous  to  all  comers,  and  her  lady- 
ship, known  to  be  easy  of  access  to  all 
addresses  of  that  kind.  And  seldom  did 
any  come  under  her  roof  who  did  not 
carry  some  mark  and  memorial  of  her 
house,  some  badge  of  her  friendship  and 
kindness,  she  having  always  in  store 
such  things  as  she  thought  fit  to  present. 
She  did  not  always  consider  what  was 
great,  or  how  it  suited  the  condition  of 
the  person  ;  but  what  (as  her  pleasant 
fancy  suggested)  might  make  her  memo- 
rable to  the  person  who  was  to  receive 
it.     Besides,  in  all  her  deeds  she  had  a 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  291 

providence  and  forecast  with  herself, 
and  also  an  aftercast,  as  you  may  call  it, 
and  casting  up  her  expenses,  and  con- 
sulting with  her  officers." 

Whilst  treating  her  neighbours  and 
dependants  with  generosity,  she  was 
sparing,  even  to  frugality,  in  her  per- 
sonal expenses.  She  was  simple  and 
abstemious  in  her  food,  and  accustomed 
"  pleasantly  to  boast  that  she  had  never 
tasted  wine  or  physic."  On  this  point 
of  her  character,  the  same  writer  ob- 
serves :  "  She  much  neglected,  and 
treated  very  harshly,  one  servant,  and  a 
very  ancient  one,  who  served  her  from 
her  cradle,  from  her  birth,  very  faithful- 
ly, according  to  her  mind,  which  ill 
usage,  therefore,  her  menial  servants,  as 
well  as  her  friends  and  children,  much 
repined  at.  And  who  this  servant  was, 
I  have  named  before.  It  was  her  body, 
who,  as  I  said,  was  a  servant  most  ob- 
sequious to  her  mind,  and  served  her 
fourscore  and  six  years. 

k'  It  will  be  held  scarcely  credible  to 
say,  but  it  is  a  truth  to  aver,  that  the 
mistress  of  this  family  was  dieted  more 
sparingly,  and  I  believe  many  times 
more  homely,  and  clad  more  coarsely 
and  cheaply,  than  most  of  the  servants  in 
her  house.  Her  austerity  and  humility 
were  seen  in  nothing  more  than  (if  I 
may  allude  to  Coloss.  ii.  23)  in  'neglect- 
ing of  the  body,  not  in  any  honour  to  the 
satisfying  of  the  flesh.''  Whether  it  were 
by  long  custom,  to  prove  with  how  lit- 
i  2 


292  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

tie  nature  may  be  content,  and  that  if 
the  appetite  can  be  satisfied,  the  body 
may  be  fed  with  what  is  most  common 
and  cheap.  She  taught  us  that  hunger 
and  health  seek  not  delicacies  nor  fulness. 

"  O  that  those  who  think  they  cannot 
live  except  they  fare  deliriously  every 
day,  would  but  make  trial  one  year  how 
they  may  preserve  their  own  health, 
and  save  their  poor  brethren  from  starv- 
ing, (by  hunger  or  nakedness,)  out  of 
those  superfluities  and  surfeits  by  which 
they  destroy  themselves." 

"  We  may  conclude  that  this  great 
matron,  who  had  such  command  over 
herself,  knew  how  to  deny  herself,  and 
learned  our  Saviour's  lesson  of  self-de- 
nial, and  St.  Paul's  affirmation  might  be 
hers  :  '  I  keep  under  my  body,  and  bring 
it  into  subjection^  These  abridgments 
were  in  this  lady  a  mortification,  which 
humility  and  modesty  concealed,  but 
which  wisdom  and  resolution  did  put  in 
practice." 

Her  dress,  after  her  second  widow- 
hood, consisted  of  black  serge,  which,  it 
is  said,  "  made  many  pleasant  mistakes 
between  her  and  her  attendants,"  but 
she  never  censured  others  for  greater 
gayety  of  apparel;  and  when  visitors 
came  to  her,  after  the  Restoration,  in 
dresses  which  other  persons  considered 
affected  and  fantastical,  the  countess 
only  indulged  in  such  pleasant  reflec- 
tions as  rather  gave  pleasure  than  un- 
easiness to  her  visitors. 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  293 

She  took  especial  delight  in  the  alms- 
house which  she  founded  near  Appleby, 
for  thirteen  poor  women,  to  be  called  a 
mother,  and  twelve  sisters,  for  which 
she  provided  an  endowment,  and  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Church  to  be  performed 
daily.  With  these  sisters,  as  she  liked 
to  call  them,  she  would  sit  and  dine  in 
their  almshouse,  and  invite  them  to  dine 
and  converse  with  her  as  freely  as  her 
greatest  guests.  This  institution  con- 
tinued for  more  than  twenty-three  years 
under  her  care,  she  having  with  her  own 
hands  laid  the  foundation  of  the  build- 
ing, and  brought  its  inhabitants  to  occu- 
py their  several  rooms.  She  was  not 
satisfied  with  her  children  and  grand- 
children when  they  came  to  visit  her,  if 
they  did  not  pay  their  salutations  at  her 
almshouse,  and  she  commonly  admonish- 
ed them  when  they  came  from  far  to 
pay  their  duty  to  her,  that  before  they 
came  to  her  for  a  blessing,  they  should 
take  the  blessing  of  the  poor,  the  alms- 
women's  blessing  by  the  way. 

The  spirit  and  determination  of  her 
character  still  subsisted,  and  are  charac- 
teristically shown  in  some  trifling  anec- 
dotes. She  wrote  thus  to  Mr.  Brogden, 
reader  of  Bethmesley  Hospital : 

"  Good  John  Brogden, 

"  I  have  received  your  letter,  and  in 
it  one  from   L.    C,   to  the  mother  and 
sisters  of  Beamsley,  desiring  their  for- 
bearance of  the  rent  due  to  them  for 
i3 


294  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

some  seasons,  which  motion  of  his  I  do 
utterly  dislike,  and  will  by  no  means 
give  my  assent  to  ;  for  if  I  or  they 
should  hearken  to  such  motions,  they 
should  soon  be  in  a  very  sad  condition. 
Therefore  I  charge  you  and  give  you 
authority  under  my  own  hand,  forthwith 
to  distrain  for  the  said  rent,  and  if  it  be 
not  thereupon  paid,  I  will  use  the  strict- 
est course  I  can  to  turn  him  out  of  his 
farm.  And  I  pray  you  show  him  these 
lines  of  mine,  to  witress  this  my  pur- 
pose and  intention.  And  so,  committing 
you  to  the  Almighty,  I  rest 

"  Your  assured  friend, 

"Anne  Pembroke. 
"  Appleby  Castle,  this  29th  May,  1655. 

Another  letter  gives  her  warrant  for 
rilling  up  a  vacant  place  in  the  alms- 
house at  Bethmesley,  adding  that  the 
widow  can  only  be  admitted  on  condi- 
tion of  attending  church,  and  hearing 
common  prayer  in  the  almshouse,  other- 
wise the  house  will  be  brought  out  of  order. 

In  a  letter  addressed  to  her  successor, 
Lord  Thanet,  in  1711,  is  the  following 
passage  : 

"  May  it  please  your  lordship,  I  have 
made  inquiry  about  William  Watson's 
paying  c£20  per  annum  to  Mr.  Sedg- 
wick, and  find  several  persons  can  re- 
member it,  and  they  say  that  the  reason 
of  my  Lady  Pembroke's  anger  against 
his  father  was,  that  he  had  bought  tim- 
ber of  one  Curror,  that  had  been  gov- 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  295 

ernor  of  Shipton  Castle,  and  carried  it 
away  from  the  castle  after  it  had  been, 
demolished,  to  Silsden  More'."* 

It  was  a  custom  on  all  her  estates  for 
each  tenant  to  pay,  besides  his  rent,  an 
annual  boon  hen,  as  it  was  called.  This 
had  ever  been  acknowledged  a  just 
claim,  and  was  common  long  after  Lady 
Pembroke's  time  on  many  great  estates 
in  the  north,  being  generally  considered 
as  a  steward's  perquisite.  "  It  happen- 
ed that  a  rich  clothier  from  Halifax,  one 
Murgatroyd,  having  taken  a  tenement 
near  Skipton,  was  called  on  by  the 
steward  of  the  castle  for  his  boon  hen. 
On  his  refusal  to  pay  it,  the  countess  or- 
dered a  suit  to  be  commenced  against 
him.  After  the  suit  had  lasted  long,  it 
was  carried  in  her  favour,  but  at  the  ex- 
pense of  d£200.  It  is  said  that  after  the 
affair  was  decided,  she  invited  Mr.  Mur- 
gatroyd to  dinner,  and  drawing  the  hen 
to  her,  which  was  served  up  as  the  first 


*  There  is  a  well  known  letter,  purporting  to 
be  from  her  to  a  minister  who  attempted  to  in- 
terfere with  the  nomination  of  the  borough  of 
Appleby. 

"  I  have  been  bullied  by  a  usurper,  I  have 
been  neglected  by  a  court,  but  I  will  not  be  dic- 
tated to  by  a  subject.     Your  man  sha'n't  stand. 
tl  Anhe   Dorset, 
u  Pembroke  and  Montgomery." 

Though  often  quoted,  it  bears  no  trace  of 
genuineness.  It  was  not  published  till  1753, 
and  the  original  has  never  been  produced.  The 
style  is  neither  her  own,  nor  that  of  her  age. 

i  4 


296  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

dish,  she  said,  '  Come,  Mr.  Murgatroyd, 
let  us  now  be  good  friends  :  since  you 
allow  the  hen  to  be  dressed  at  my  table, 
we'll  divide  it  between  us.'  " 

She  took  great  interest  in  the  history 
of  those  great  northern  families  from 
which  she  was  descended,  the  Cliffords, 
Veteriponts  or  Viponts,  and  Veseys. 
*'  At  a  great  expense  she  employed 
learned  men  to  make  collections  for  a 
history  of  them,  from  the  records  in  the 
tower,  the  rolls,  and  other  depositories  of 
public  papers ;  which  being  all  fairly 
transcribed,  filled  three  large  volumes. 
This  work,  containing  anecdotes  of  a 
great  variety  of  original  characters,  ex- 
erting themselves  on  very  important  oc- 
casions, '  is  still,  I  have  heard,  (writes 
Gilpin  in  his  Tour  to  the  Lakes,)  among 
the  family  records  at  Appleby  Cas- 
tle.' " 

She  caused  an  entry  to  be  made,  under 
her  own  inspection,  of  the  transactions 
of  every  day,  in  a  large  folio  volume 
which  she  carried  with  her  from  one 
castle  to  another  when  she  travelled.  It 
is  said  that  the  Earl  of  Thanet  destroy- 
ed it,  as  it  contained  many  severe  re- 
marks on  persons  of  those  times  which 
he  thought  might  offend  their  families. 
Her  secretary,  Mr.  Sedgwick,  wrote  a 
life  of  himself,  in  which  he  inserted  some 
circumstances  relating  to  his  lady,  and 
they  have  by  his  means  been  preserv- 
ed. 

She  was  fond  of  saying  that  her  fami- 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  297 

ly  had  furnished  that  diocese  (of  Car- 
lisle) with  a  bishop,  Thomas  Vipont, 
who  was  appointed  to  that  office  in  TJ55. 
Her  recollection  of  courts  went  back  to 
that  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  whose  favour 
towards  her  in  her  youth  she  desired  to 
have  recorded,  and  she  had  in  her  room, 
with  the  portraits  of  her  daughters  and 
their  husbands,  that  of  Anne,  Queen  to 
James  I.,  who  had  been  her  friend. 
After  the  Restoration,  a  lady  of  her 
neighbourhood  conversed  with  her  upon 
their  mutual  joy  at  the  king's  return, 
and  the.  splendour  which  had  attended 
his  entrance  to  Whitehall,  and  wished 
that  she  could  go  once  more  to  London, 
and  feed  her  eyes  with  the  sight  of  such 
happy  objects,  before  she  came  back  to 
her  retirement :  but  she  answered  sud- 
denly, *«  If  I  should  go  to  those  places 
now  so  full  of  gallantry  and  glory,  I 
ought  to  do  as  they  do  to  ill-sighted  or 
unruly  horses,  have  spectacles  (or  blink- 
ers) put  before  mine  eyes,  lest  I  should 
see  or  censure  what  I  cannot  competent- 
ly judge  of;  be  offended  myself,  or  give 
offence  to  others." 

Of  her  conversation,  Bishop  Rainbow- 
says  that  it  "  was  indeed  meek,  affable, 
and  gentle  ;  her  words,  according  to  the 
circumstances  of  persons  in  her  presence, 
pleasant  or  grave,  always  seasoned  with 
salt;  savoury,  but  not  bitter.  I  had 
the  honour  to  be  often  admitted  to  her 
discourse,  but  never  heard  nor  have  been 
told  by  others,  that  she  was  invective  or 
i  5 


298  amtm  curroRi*. 

censorious,  or  did  use  to  speak  ill  or 
censoriously  of  persons  or  actions,  but 
she  was  especially  cautions  in  censuring 
public  persons  or  actions  in  matters  of 
state.  I  was  present  when  she  was  told 
of  the  certainty  of  war  with  the  Dutch,, 
and  of  the  great  preparation  on  all 
hands ;  on  which  subject  she  only  said,. 
If  their  sins  he  greater  than  ours,  they, 
would  have  the  worst. 

Her  constancy  of  purpose  and  regu- 
larity extended  to  lesser  as  well  as  great- 
er matters.  **  She  used,  as  she  said,  to- 
*chew  the  cud,'  ruminating  of  her  next 
day's  business,  in  her  night-wakings  'r 
and  when  once  she  had  weighed  the  cir- 
cumstances and  resolved,  she  did  not 
like  to  have  any  after  considerations,  or 
$o  be  moved  by  them." 

"  I  might  enlarge,"  he  continues,  "by 
particular  instances  of  her  patience  in> 
bearing  and  even  taking  up  submissive- 
ly the  crosses  which  she  met  withal,  as 
it  cannot  be  imagined  but  one  who  lived 
so  long  in  a  perverse  and  crooked  gene- 
ration, must  meet  with  many  crosses  in> 
several  kinds,  both  in  regard  of  public 
revolutions  and  private  cross  accidents; 
indeed  she  saw  and  felt  great  varieties 
and  mixture  of  better  and  worse  in. 
both.  She  spun  out  almost  the  measure 
of  one  whole  age,  and  the  age  wherein- 
she  lived  might  give  her  experience  of 
ihe  greatest  misery,  and  also  felicity,  in> 
the  late  revolutions  in  these  three  na- 
tions that  any  one   age  had  ever  seea~ 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  299 

Amongst  the  other  trials  of  this  kind,  I 
was  able  to  observe  one  great  work  of 
patience  wrought  out  by  this  pious  lady. 

"  When  the  astonishing  news  was 
brought  her,  about  three  years  since, 
from  the  Isle  of  Guernsey,  of  the  strange 
and  disastrous  death  of  one  of  her  clear 
grandchildren,  with  a  lady  of  great  piety 
and  honour,  and  divers  others,  by  a  ter- 
rible blast  of  gunpowder,  the  relation  of 
which  amazed  the  court  and  all  that 
heard  of  it  :  although  she  first  received 
the  news  with  a  sorrow  suppressed  by  a 
silence  and  wonder,  yet  after,  when  she 
heard  that  the  noble  lord,  her  grandson, 
Lord  Hatton,  who  had  also  been  blown 
up  out  of  his  chamber,  (and  by  a  won- 
derful providence  being  thrown  upon  a 
high  wall,)  that  he  and  two  of  her  grand- 
children escaped  without  any  harm,  she 
discovered  a  patient  submission  to  the 
will  of  God  in  many  Christian  expres- 
sions, which  soon  after  I  did  receive 
from  herself;  and  several  times  after, 
when  she  was  pleased  to  renew  the 
remembrance  of  it,  with  much  ad- 
miration and  acknowledgment  of  the 
secret  ways  of  God's  judgment  and  mer- 
cies, on  which  she  could  enlarge  with 
many  heavenly  expressions." 

kl  She  had  six  castles,  in  each  of  which 
she  used  to  reside  at  prefixed  times, 
keeping  them  each  in  repair,  and  dis- 
pensing her  charity  and  hospitality. 
Her  journeys  were  often  made  in  the 
winter,  and  over  uncouth  and  untrodden 
i  6 


300  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

mountain  ways,  when  she  assembled 
the  labourers  to  act  as  pioneers,  and  re- 
warded them  liberally  for  their  work. 

"  About  three  years  before  her  death, 
she  had  appointed  to  move  from  Apple- 
by to  Brougham  Castle,  in  January. 
The  day  being  very  cold,  a  frost  and 
misty,  yet  much  company  coming  (as 
they  usually  did)  to  attend  her  removal : 
she  would  needs  hold  her  resolution,  and 
in  her  passage  out  of  her  house,  she  di- 
verted into  the  chapel,  (as  at  such  times 
she  commonly  did,)  and  there,  at  or  near 
a  window,  sent  up  her  private  prayers 
and  ejaculations,  when  immediately  she 
fell  into  a  swoon,  and  could  not  be  re- 
covered until  she  had  been  laid  for  some 
time  upon  a  bed,  near  a  great  fire.  The 
gentlemen  and  neighbours  who  came  to 
attend  her,  used  much  persuasion  that 
she  would  return  to  her  chamber,  and 
not  travel  on  so  sharp  and  cold  a  day  ; 
but  she  having  before  fixed  on  that  day, 
and  so  much  company  being  come  pur- 
posely to  wait  on  her,  she  would  go ; 
and  although  as  soon  as  she  came  to  her 
horse  litter,  she  swooned  again,  and  was 
carried  into  a  chamber  as  before,  yet  as 
soon  as  that  tit  was  over,  she  went ;  and 
was  no  sooner  come  to  her  journey's  end, 
(nine  miles,)  but  a  swooning  seized  on 
her  again  ;  from  which  being  soon  re- 
covered, when  some  of  her  servants  and 
others  represented  to  her,  with  repining, 
her  undertaking  such  a  journey,  foretold 
by  divers  to  be  so  extremely  hazardous 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  301 

to  her  life,  she  replied,  '  She  knew  she 
must  die,  and  it  was  the  same  thing  to 
her  to  die  in  her  litter  as  in  her  bed. '  " 

She  had  not  a  chaplain  living  in  her 
family,  but  at  each  of  her  six  houses 
the  minister  of  the  parish  was  accustom- 
ed to  officiate  in  her  family.  When  age 
had  deprived  her  in  some  measure  of  the 
use  of  her  limbs  and  hearing,  she  used 
her  chamber  as  an  oratory,  there  otter- 
ing up  her  private  devotions.  She  either 
read  the  psalms  of  the  day  to  herself,  or 
when  hindered  by  ill  health,  they  were 
read  to  her  by  her  attendants,  and  she 
took  especial  delight  in  the  Psalter. 
She  also  usually  heard  a  large  portion  of 
Scripture  read  every  day,  as  much  as 
one  of  the  Gospels  in  the  course  of  the 
week.  She  traced  her  attachment  for 
the  Church  and  its  ordinances  to  the 
early  training  of  her  mother,  and  perse- 
vered in  it  to  the  end  of  her  life. 

"  As  her  death  drew  near,  she  expos- 
tulated with  one  of  her  nearest  attend- 
ants, for  being  as  were  the  others  who 
waited  on  her  so  passionately  concerned 
and  busy  about  her,  and  wished  them 
not  to  take  so  much  pains  for  her  who 
deserved  less.  Asking  also  why  any, 
herself  especially,  should  at  any  time  be 
angry  ?  why  any  of  those  outward  things 
should  trouble  her,  who  deserved  so  lit- 
tle, and  had  beec  blessed  with  so  much  ? 
By  which  it  might  appear  that  she  had 
brought  into  subjection  all  great  thoughts, 
she  had  cast  down  imaginations  and 
i  7 


302  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

every  high  thing,  bringing  into  captivity 
every  high  thought,  and  submitting  the 
world  and  her  soul  to  the  obedience  of 
Christ ;  her  passions  were  mortified  and 
dead  before  her  :  so  that  for  three  or 
four  days  of  her  last  sickness,  (for  she 
endured  no  more,)  she  lay  as  if  she  en- 
dured nothing.  She  called  for  her 
Psalms,  which  she  could  not  now,  as 
she  usually  had  done,  read  herself,  (the 
greatest  symptom  of  her  extremity,) 
and  caused  them  to  be  read  unto  her. 
But  that  cordial  (in  which  she  had  al- 
ways taken  particular  delight)  kept,  in 
Rom.  viii.,  and  in  her  heart ;  this  her 
memory  held  to  the  last,  this  she  soon 
repeated  :  no  doubt  to  secure  her  soul 
against  all  fear  of  condemnation,  being 
now  wholly  Christ's,  having  served  Him 
in  the  spirit  of  her  mind,  and  not  loved 
to  walk  after  the  flesh,  having  (as  often 
as  she  affectionately  pronounced  the 
words  of  this  chapter)  called  in  the  tes- 
timony of  the  Spirit  to  bear  her  witness, 
that  she  desired  to  be  delivered  from 
this  bondage  of  corruption,  into  the  glo- 
rious liberty  of  the  children  of  God  ;  and 
so  to  strengthen  her  faith  and  hope  by 
other  comfortable  arguments,  contained 
in  the  rest  of  that  chapter,  being  the 
last  words  of  continuance  which  this 
dying  lady  spoke." 

The  rest  of  the  time  she  lay  quiet,  as 
if  ruminating,  digesting  and  speaking 
inwardly  to  her  soul  what  she  had  ut- 
tered in  broken  words,  and  so  breathed 


ANNE    CLIFFORD.  303 

her  last  without  disturbance,  on  March 
22d,  1675-6,  in  the  87th  year  of  her  age. 
"  There  might  indeed,"  to  conclude 
with  the  following  summary,  "  seem  in 
the  opinion  of  some,  many  paradoxes 
and  contradictions  in  her  life.  She  lived 
and  conversed  outwardly  with  the  world, 
as  easily  as  might  be,  yet  her  guise  in- 
ward and  reflexed,  was  quite  as  one  of 
another  world.  Of  an  humour  pleasing 
to  all,  yet  like  to  none  :  her  dress  not 
disliked  by  any,  yet  imitated  by  none. 
Those  who  fed  by  her,  full,  if  with  her, 
starved ;  to  eat  by  the  measures  she 
took  to  herself.  She  was  absolute  mis- 
tress of  herself,  her  resolutions,  actions, 
and  time ;  and  yet  allowed  a  time  for 
every  purpose,  for  all  addresses,  for  any 
persons.  None  had  access  but  by  leave, 
when  she  called  ;  but  none  were  reject- 
ed ;  none  must  stay  longer  than  she 
would  ;  yet  none  departed  unsatisfied. 
Like  him  at  the  stern,  she  seemed  to  do 
little  or  nothing,  but  indeed  turned  and 
steered  the  whole  course  of  her  affairs. 
She  seemed  (2  Cor.  vi.  10)  as  poor,  yet 
making  many  rich ;  as  having  nothing, 
yet  possessing  all  things.  She  had 
many  occasions  of  sorrow,  but  appeared 
as  if  she  sorrowed  not,  and  again,  rejoiced 
as  if  she  rejoiced  not.  She  had  no  visi- 
ble transports,  she  did  use  the  world  as 
not  using,  at  least  as  not  abusing  of  iU 
None  disliked  what  she  did  or  was,  be- 
cause she  was  like  herself  in  all  things, 
sibi  constans,  semper  eadem." 
i  8 


304  ANNE    CLIFFORD. 

Those  who  saw  her  in  her  old  age, 
described  her  as  upright,  active,  and 
commanding  in  her  appearance  ,  and  she 
enjoyed  remarkably  strong  health  through 
life. 

In  Gilpin's  time,  she  was  still  re- 
membered in  the  North  with  much  ven- 
eration. Her  daughter  Margaret,  the 
wife  of  Lord  Thanet,  survived  her,  and 
became  her  heir.  The  Countess  of 
Pembroke  had  seen  many  of  her  grand- 
children and  great  grandchildren  ;  and 
Lady  Thanet  was  succeeded  in  her  es- 
tates by  three  sons,  the  second  of  whom 
married  his  cousin  Alathea,  daughter  to 
Isabella,  Countess  of  Northampton,  and 
so  reunited  all  the  possessions  which  had 
descended  from  Lady  Pembroke  to  her 
two  daughters.  Dying  without  children, 
he  was  succeeded  by  Thomas,  Earl  of 
Thanet,  who  is  said  to  have  lived  on  his 
estates,  with  such  charity  and  liberality 
as  made  him  worthy  to  be  heir  to  the 
Countess  of  Pembroke.  "  A  nobleman,'* 
it  is  said,  "of  the  old  school,  a  true  son 
of  the  Church  of  England,  virtuous,  de- 
vout, and  charitable." 


Besides  those  ladies  of  whom  some 
account  has  here  been  given,  there  are 
others  less  fully  known,  of  whom  only 
short  records  are  preserved,  or  whose 
funeral  sermons  give  but  few  circum- 
stances of  their  lives.     Several  of  these 


SIBYI/LA    EGERTON.  305 

-are  mentioned  in  Wilford's  Memorials, 
and  cannot  be  passed  over  without  notice 
among  such  as  kept  their  faith  in  this 
time  of  trouble. 


SIBYLLA  EGERTON. 

Sibylla  Egerton  was  daughter  to 
Sir  Rowland  Egerton,  of  Farthinghoe, 
an  Northamptonshire,  and  was  first  mar- 
ried to  Edward  Bellot,  Esq.,  after  whose 
death  she  married  Sir  Edmund  Ander- 
son, first  Baronet  of  Broughton  and  Lea. 
Her  funeral  sermon  was  preached  by 
.Edward  Boteler,  a  relation  of  Sir  Ed- 
mund's first  wife,  and  rector  of  Wintring- 
3iam.  After  dwelling  on  her  several 
'Christian  graces,  he  mentions  especially 
lier  fidelity  to  her  king  and  Church. 

"  To  God's  lieutenant,  her  and  our 
sovereign  Charles  II.,  she  was  invincibly 
faithful,  following  him  through  the  vi- 
cissitudes of  his  fortunes  with  constan- 
cy and  resolution." — "  To  God's  Church 
«he  was  rarely  devoted,  praying  often 
■and  earnestly  for  the  peace  of  Jeru- 
salem. It  was  her  constant  practice, 
during  our  late  confusions  in  worship, 
to  repair  to  places  where  Common 
Prayer  and  administration  of  the  Sacra- 
ments might  be  had,  according  to  the  use 
of  the  Church  of  England." 

*'  Her  private  devotions  were  due  ami 

■constant;  and  for  her  furtherance  in  this 

duty  she  kept  catalogues  of  her  sins, 

that  none  might  escape  her  confession 

i  3 


306  SIBYLLA    EGEHTON-. 

when  she  came  to  prostrate  her  son) 
before  the  all-seeing  Eye.  I  have  seen 
some  papers  under  her  own  hand,  where- 
in she  had  written  what  sins  she  desired 
might  be  blotted  out,  what  mercies  were 
seasonable  to  beg  for  herself,  her  rela- 
tions, the  Church,  the  kingdom  ;  and 
herein  she  deaft  faithfully,  and  would 
not  wink  at  small  faults  in  herself.  12 
was  her  care,  even  in  her  sickness,  that 
prayers  among  her  servants  might  not 
be  laid  aside,  and  in  her  health  not  over- 
employing  them;  she  would  often  say  it 
was  her  desire  that  her  servants  might 
have  leisure  to  serve  God  as  well  as  her- 
self.'* 

She  outlived  SirEdmund,  whose  death 
she  deeply  lamented.  It  does  not  appear 
that  she  left  any  children  of  her  own, 
but  she  had  the  care  of  a  mother  for  his 
children  by  his  former  marriage.  In 
1661,  one  of  her  relations  fell  sick  of  the 
smallpox,  and  knowing  how  fatal  that 
disease  had  been  in  her  family,  she  made 
her  will,  disposed  of  her  estate,  and  had 
then  no  thought  hut  to  prepare  for 
another  world.  The  disorder,  however, 
that  proved  fatal  to  her,  was  a  quartan 
ague,  which,  after  several  attacks,  con- 
vinced her  that  she  was  near  her  end. 
14  She  received  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  some  few  days  before  she 
died,  and  that  with  so  mueh  fervency 
and  holy  appetite,  so  eating  the  flesh  of 
the  Son  of  Man,  and  so  drinking  His 
blood,  as  gave  good  evidence  she  haila 


LADY  SOPHIA  CHAWORTH.  307 

eternal  life,  and  that  He  will  raise  her 
up  at  the  last  day.  The  day  before  she 
died,"  proceeds  Mr.  Boteler,  "  I  came 
to  visit  her,  and  found  the  time  of 
her  departure  was  at  hand.  She  then 
desired  me  to  pray  with  her,  and  absolve 
her,  according  to  the  use  of  the  Church 
of  England,  which  I  accordingly  did,  to 
her  no  little  comfort.  When  I  had  read 
the  Versicle  appointed  in  the  Visitations 
of  the  Sick,  'O  Lord,  save  Thy  servant,' 
and  some  present  rehearsed  the  Anti- 
phon,  'which  putteth  her  trust  in  Thee,' 
she  started  up  with  much  earnestness, 
hands,  and  eyes,  and  heart,  and  all,  lift 
up,  and  added,  '  Ay,  and  my  whole  con- 
fidence, Lord.'  "  She  died  in  October, 
1661,  and  was  buried  in  the  church  of 
Broughton  in  Lincolnshire. 

LADY  SOPHIA  CHAWORTH. 

In  the  character  given  by  Lloyd,  of 
Montague  Bertie,  Earl  of  Lindsay,  after 
his  sufferings  in  the  king's  service  have 
been  told,  and  his  endeavours  to  preserve 
his  sovereign's  life,  the  following  passage 
occurs  : 

44  How  piously  did  he,  and  his  many 
pious  relations  that  made  his  place  a 
cloister,  resent  the  parricide  and  the 
consequents  of  it,  giving  up  themselves 
to  the  extraordinary  devotions,  in  the  de- 
spised and  afflicted  way  of  the  Church 
of  England,  communicating  wherever 
they  were  only  with  the  members  of  that 


3G8  MABELLA    FOTHKRBY. 

Church ;  to  the  honour  whereof,  and  of 
baffled  piety,  and  virtue  itself,  I  cannot 
conceal,  though  I  offend  unpanlonably 
against  her  modesty,  when  I  mention  a 
sister  of  his,  Lady  Sophia,  wife  to  Sir 
Robert  Chaworth,  that  composeth 
her  soul  more  carefully  by  God's  word, 
than  others  do  their  face  by  their  glass- 
es; spends  that  time  in  praying,  (keep- 
ing inviolably  all  the  primitive  hours  of 
devotion,)  that  is  thrown  away  too  com- 
monly in  dressing,  gaming,  and  compli- 
menting ;  and  bestows  her  thoughtful  and 
serious  life  between  the  strictest  fasting, 
(but  one  sparing  meal  in  thirty-six 
hours — not  so  much  upon  extraordinary 
occasions,)  the  most  liberal  alms  both  to 
the  sick  and  to  the  needy,  bountiful  both 
in  her  skill  and  in  her  charity,  indefati- 
gable in  reading  serious  discourses,  and 
constant  prayers." 

MABELLA  FOTHERBY. 

Mabella  Fotherby  was  daughter 
to  the  Dean  of  Canterbury,  and  wife  to 
Sir  John  Finch,  Baron  of  Ford  with,  and 
Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  in  King  Charles 
the  First's  reign.  She  accompanied  him 
when  he  went  into  banishment,  shared 
cheerfully  his  adversities,  solicited  his 
business  in  England  during  the  Rebel- 
lion, and  attended  him  with  unwearied 
care  during  his  long  sicknesses.  "  which 
made  him  hard  to  please  ;"  and  upon  his 
death,  about  1660,  she  gave  him  an  hon- 


MABELLA    FOTHERBT.  309 

ourable  burial  and  monument  in  St. 
Martin's  Church,  at  Canterbury.  She 
lived  about  nine  years  a  widow,  never 
missing  the  Holy  Days,  Lent  Sermons, 
or  Monthly  Communions,  in  the  cathe- 
dral, nor  any  other  occasions  of  divine 
service,  either  there  or  at  her  parish 
church  of  St.  Martin's.  fc*  Ever  after 
the  martyrdom  of  King  Charles,  which 
was  on  a  Tuesday,  she  made  that  day, 
every  week,  her  fasting  day,  and  kept  it 
with  great  devotion  and  mortification  ; 
labouring  for  her  part  to  avert  the  judg- 
ments which  might  threaten  the  land  for 
that  grievous  crime.  And  a  Tuesday 
was  chosen  for  her  own  funeral."  When 
her  mortal  sickness  came  on,  which  it 
did  suddenly,  the  intervals  between  her 
fits  of  apoplexy  allowed  her  time  for  re- 
doubling the  strength  of  her  religious 
purposes.  "  Being  a  person  of  few 
words,  which  she  placed  well,  she  hus- 
banded those  intervals  to  express  her 
disposition  to  heaven,  her  longing  for 
God,  her  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  with 
Christ.*' 

"  As  for  the  disposing  of  her  es- 
tate," says  Mr.  Du  Moulin,  who  visited 
her,  "  when  I  exhorted  her  to  it,  she 
said  that  work  was  done.  I  cannot  with- 
out joy  and  comfort  remember  her  joy 
and  comfort,  expressed  with  eyes  and 
arms  lift  up  to  heaven,  showing  by  words 
and  gestures  that  she  was  full  of  the  life 
and  peace  of  God.  And  in  this  blessed 
disposition  departed  the  mother  of  hey 


310  ALICE  DUTCHESS  DUDLEY. 

kindred,  the  nurse  of  the  poor,  the  rare 
example  of  piety,  wisdom,  and  nobleness, 
and  the  honour  of  our  cathedral."  She 
was  buried,  like  her  husband,  in  St. 
Martin's  Church,  Canterbury,  on  the 
fourteenth  of  September,  1669. 

ALICE  DUTCHESS  DUDLEY. 

In  the  ancient  parish  church  of  Stone- 
leigh,  in  Warwickshire,  among  many 
monuments  to  the  loyal  family  of  the 
Leighs,  is  one  to  the  memory  of  Alice 
Dutchess  Dudley,  and  her  daughter. 
They  are  represented  in  a  recumbent 
posture,  beneath  a  canopy  with  arms  on 
the  facings.  This  Alice  was  of  a  branch 
of  the  Leigh  family,  settled  at  Stone- 
leigh,  in  a  large  mansion  on  the  banks 
of  the  Avon.  She  was  granddaughter  to 
Alice,  wife  of  Sir  Thomas  Leigh,  who 
lived  there  to  a  great  age,  having  seen 
her  children's  children  to  the  fourth 
generation,  and  founded  there  an  hospi- 
tal for  five  men  and  five  women,  all  of 
them  to  be  unmarried  persons,  and  to  be 
nominated  after  her  death- by  her  son, 
Sir  Thomas  Leigh,  (the  father  of  Alice 
Dudley,)  and  his  heirs  for  ever. 

Sir  Thomas,  nephew  to  Alice  Dudley, 
received  Charles  I.  at  Stoneleigh,  in 
1642,  when  the  king  could  not  obtain 
admittance  at  Coventry,  and  was  on  that 
occasion  created  a  baron,  whilst  his  son 
received  the  honour  of  knighthood.  Two 
years  afterwards,  the  king  gave  to  Alice 


ALICE  DUTCHESS  DUDLEY.         311 

Lady  Dudley  the  title  of  a  Dutchess  for 
her  life  ;  her  husband,  Sir  Robert,  was 
son  to  the  celebrated  Earl  of  Leicester, 
by  his  marriage  with  Lady  Douglas 
Howard,  widow  of  Lord  Sheffield  ;  but 
as  the  Earl  afterwards  refused  to  ac- 
knowledge the  marriage,  his  son  obtained 
permission  to  travel,  and  never  returned 
to  England.  He  is  said  to  have  been  a 
man  of  great  attainments,  and  was  much 
favoured  by  the  Duke  of  Tuscany,  and 
also  by  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  XL,  who 
gave  him  the  title  of  a  duke. 

His  lady  remained  in  England  with 
her  five  daughters,  of  whom  only  two 
are  mentioned  as  living  at  the  time  of  the 
king's  grant ;  and  the  services  of  their 
husbands,  Sir  Richard  Levison,  and 
Robert  Holbourne,  are  there  acknow- 
ledged. She  lived  to  the  age  of  ninety, 
surviving  the  Restoration  nine  years. 
Her  funeral  sermon  was  preached  in 
1669,  by  Dr.  Robert  Boreman,  rector  of 
St.  Giles,  in  London,  to  which  church 
and  parish  she  had  been  a  great  bene- 
factor. 

He  speaks  in  high  terms  of  her  piety, 
her  charity,  and  other  excellencies.  She 
was  subjected,  he  says,  to  the  reproach 
of  being  a  Papist,  because  she  was  loyal 
to  her  sovereign,  and  abounded  in  good 
works. 

Her  strong  memory  became  in  her  old 
age  a  storehouse  of  knowledge,  acquired 
during  her  long  life;  and,  as  Dr.  Bore- 
man   describes  her,    she   was   a  living 


312         ALICE  DUTCHESS  DUDLEY. 

chronicle  of  things  relating  to  his  parish. 
After  preparing  for  death,  both  during 
the  time  of  her  last  illness  and  before  it, 
she  asked  for  the  last  time  for  that  heav- 
enly food  which  she  desired  as  the  pro- 
vision of  her  journey,  kneeling,  though 
hardly  having  strength  to  stand,  and  re- 
ceiving it  with  the  most  devout  behaviour 
and  expressions.  A  few  days  after,  her 
wish  to  depart  was  granted  ;  and  saying, 
"  Lord,  receive  my  spirit,"  she  fell 
asleep. 

During  her  life-time  she  assisted  in 
repairing  the  church  of  St.  Giles's  in  the 
Fields,  as  recorded  in  the  register  of 
that  church,  by  giving  large  sums  of 
money  towards  its  restoration,  hangings 
of  taffety  bordered  with  fringe  for  the 
upper  end  of  the  chancel,  rich  velvet 
and  cloths  for  the  altar,  and  cambric  and 
damask  cloths  for  administration  of  the 
communion,  with  other  decorations,  com- 
munion plate,  an  organ,  bells,  &c.  All 
these,  except  the  communion  plate  and 
the  great  bell,  were  afterwards  demolish- 
ed and  sold,  as  being  counted  supersti- 
tious and  popish,  under  pretence  of  re- 
lieving the  poor  out  of  the  money  re- 
ceived from  them. 

She  augmented  the  vicarage  of  Stone- 
leigh  and  several  others,  and  gave  costly 
communion  plate  to  their  churches.  She 
gave  a  fair  house  and  garden  as  a  par- 
sonage to  the  church  of  St.  Giles's,  and 
allowed  a  yearly  stipend  to  tbe  sexton 
of  the  church  to  toll  the  great  bell  when 


LADY  GRACE  GRENVILLE.  313 

prisoners  were  passing  by  to  execution, 
and  after  they  were  executed. 

She  gave  great  sums  for  repairing  the 
Cathedral  Church  at  Lichfield,  and  for 
rebuilding  St.  Sepulchre's  in  London. 

At  her  death  she  left  bequests  for  re- 
deeming Christian  captives  from  the  in- 
fidels, for  a  hospital  in  St.  Giles's,  and 
for  apprenticing  poor  children  of  the 
parish,  for  distribution  of  money  at  her 
funeral  to  ninety  widows,  (according  to 
the  years  of  her  life,)  for  a  gown  and 
white  kerchief  to  attend  her  funeral,  and 
a  dinner  to  each  afterwards.  Five 
pounds  to  be  given  to  every  place  where 
her  body  should  rest  between  London 
and  Stoneleigh,  and  sixpence  to  be  given 
to  every  person  who  should  meet  her 
corpse  on  the  road. 

Her  daughter  Frances,  who  married 
Sir  Gilbert  Kniveton,  has  a  monument  in 
St.  Giles's  Church.  Lady  Catherine 
Levison  alone  survived  her  mother. 

LADY  GRACE  GRENVILLE. 

Some  letters  are  preserved,  written  by 
Sir  BevilGrenville  to  his  wife,  of  whom 
apparently  there  is  no  other  record,  but 
who  must  excite  an  interest  as  the  wife 
of  that,  heroic  rovalist,  addressed  by  him 
as  "  his  best  friend,  the  Lady  Grace 
Grenville."  The  date  of  the  first  of 
these  is  London,  May  18th,  1626;  that 
of  the  second  a  few  days  later  ;  and  they 
are  said  to  be  as  fresh*  and  clean  in  their 


314  LADY  GRACE  GRENVILLE. 

appearance  as  if  but  lately  written. 
They  concern  domestic  matters,  his  care 
of  his  wife's  health,  his  choice  of  a  name 
for  their  expected  child,  to  be  called,  if  a 
boy,  John  ;  or  if  a  girl,  Grace.  His  de- 
sire to  return  in  time  for  the  christening, 
messages  to  her  relations  and  his,  and 
the  choice  to  be  made  of  sponsors,  with 
some  account  of  the  commission  his  wife 
had  given  him  to  buy  sweetmeats.  These 
trifling  circumstances  excite  an  interest 
of  the  same  kind  as  that  raised  by  Lord 
Sunderland's  letters  to  his  wife,  as  show- 
ing how  much  tenderness  could  accom- 
pany loyal  self-devotion.  'k  I  go,*'  said 
Sir  Bevil,  when  he  raised  troops  for  the 
king,  "  with  joy  and  comfort  to  venture 
my  life  in  as  good  a  cause,  and  in  as 
good  company,  as  ever  Englishman  did ; 
and  I  do  take  God  to  witness,  if  I  were  to 
choose  a  death,  it  would  be  no  other  than 
this."  A  later  letter  to  his  wife  is  dated 
from  Bodmin,  October  12th,  1642,  in 
which  he  writes  to  her  of  military  mat- 
ters, signing  himself  as  before,  **  Your 
own  B.  Grenville."  This  letter,  in  con- 
trast to  the  former,  has  a  soiled  and  worn 
appearance,  as  if  it  had  not  reached  its 
destination  without  some  difficulty  and 
danger. 

Prince,  in  his  Worthies  of  Devon, 
says,  that  Sir  BeviFs  wife  was  a  daugh- 
ter of  Sir  George  Smith,  of  Exeter. 
Their  eldest  son,  John,  at  fifteen  years 
of  age,  commanded  his  fathers  regiment 
in  the    west,   anef  was  wounded  at  the 


1ADT  GRACE  GRENVILLE.  315 

second  battle  of  Newbury.  Sir  Bevil 
having  been  killed  at  the  celebrated  bat- 
tle of  Lansdovvne,  in  1643,  his  son  was, 
in  1661,  created  Lord  Grenville  of  Kil- 
hampton,  Viscount  Lansdowne,  and  Earl 
of  Bath.  A  younger  son  of  Sir  Bevil, 
Dennis  Grenville,  entered  into  holy  or- 
ders, married  a  daughter  of  Bishop  Co- 
sin,  and  was  ejected  as  a  nonjuror  from 
the  Deanery  of  Durham.  Bridget,  a 
daughter  of  Sir  Bevil,  married  Sir 
Thomas  Higgons.  The  name  of  Grace 
was  revived  by  the  first  Earl  of  Bath, 
who  named  his  daughter  after  his  moth- 
er ;  this  Lady  Grace  Grenville  was  mar- 
ried in  her  childhood  to  the  grandson  of 
Sir  George  Carteret,  a  faithful  servant 
of  Charles  II.,  the  bridegroom  being 
only  eight  years  old.  She  was  left  a 
widow  whilst  still  in  her  bloom,  with 
three  sons  and  a  daughter,  and  remained 
unmarried,  greatly  honoured  and  re- 
spected by  her  acquaintance.  King 
George  the  First  created  her  Viscount- 
ess Carteret,  and  Countess  Grenville,  in 
consideration  of  the  great  services  of  her 
father,  who  was  trusted  by  Charles  the 
Second,  and  General  Monk,  in  the  re- 
storation of  Monarchy  and  Episcopacy. 
By  the  death  of  her  nephew,  the  Earl 
of  Bath,  in  1711,  she  became  one  of  the 
two  co-heirs  to  her  father,  and  her  de- 
scendants inherited  a  right  to  his  arms  ; 
but  the  title  became  extinct,  and  passed 
afterwards  into  other  families.  Her  son 
succeeded  her  in  the  titles  of  CartereS 


516  MART    PERRY. 

and  Granville.  The  name  of  Grenville 
seems  to  have  been  spelt  in  many  differ- 
ent ways,  and  that  of  Granville  to  have 
been  used  indifferently  with  it. 

MARY  PERRY. 

Mart  Perrt  was  the  fourth  daughter 
of  an  alderman  of  London,  and  was  edu- 
cated under  the  care  of  Lord  Newburgh, 
who  married  her  mother  after  her  father's 
death.  *'  Before  she  was  fifteen  she  had 
gained  the  reputation,  with  all  who  knew 
her,  of  being  grave  and  thoughtful,  and 
for  that  reason  fit  to  undertake  the  cares 
of  a  family  ;"  accordingly  she  was  mar- 
ried about  this  age  to  Henry  Noel,  the 
second  son  of  Viscount  Campden.  The 
family  was  one  distinguished  for  its  loy- 
alty, both  the  father  and  brother  of  Hen- 
ry Noel  being  zealously  engaged  on  the 
king's  side,  and  great  sufferers  in  his 
cause.  Very  soon  after  her  marriage, 
Luffenham  House,  in  which  she  lived 
with  her  husband,  was  besieged  by  the 
enemy,  when  seeing  him  discouraged  by 
the  weakness  of  his  ungarrisoned  house, 
and  anxious  about  her  safety,  she  told 
him,  "that  rather  than  he  should  wound 
his  conscience,  or  blemish  his  honour,  or 
bring  his  loyalty  under  the  least  suspi- 
cion, she  could  be  content  to  see  the 
house  fall  upon  their  heads,  and  together 
with  him  be  buried  in  its  ruins." 

Notwithstanding  this  noble  spirit  in 
its    mistress,    Luffenham    House    was 


MART    PERRY.  317 

forced  to  surrender,  and  troubles  then 
came  rapidly  upon  her ;  the  house  was 
plundered,  her  husband  was  imprisoned, 
she  herself  fell  sick  of  the  smallpox,  and 
a  child  was  prematurely  born  during  her 
illness,  soon  after  which  her  husband 
died  of  the  same  disorder,  in  the  35th 
year  of  his  age.  "Thus  in  the  course 
of  one  year  she  was  maid,  wife,  widow, 
a  mother,  and  childless." 

Three  years  after  she  married  again, 
into  another  brave  and  loyal  family,  that 
of  the  Fermors,  one  of  whom  died  at 
nineteen,  in  battle  for  the  king  ;  and  her 
husband,  Sir  William,  sacrificed  for  him 
great  part  of  his  estates,  whilst  he  served 
him  with  his  own  person  in  the  field. 
He  lived  to  see  the  Restoration,  and  died 
in  the  year  following.  He  left  five  sons 
and  two  daughters  to  her  care,  and 
another  daughter  was  born  after  his 
death.  She  survived  him  ten  years, 
during  which  time  she  always  celebrated 
the  anniversary  of  his  death,  in  memory 
of  the  love  and  happiness  in  which  they 
had  lived  together.  "  She  could  never 
think  of  his  person  and  love  without  a 
mixture  of  joy  and  grief,  nor  mention  his 
name  without  a  remarkable  transport. 
If  she  were  partial  in  her  affections  to 
any  one  of  her  children  above  the  rest, 
it  was  for  his  sake  that  she  was  so ;  re- 
specting him  with  a  peculiar  kindness, 
who  was  the  darling  of  his  heart,  and 
heir  to  a  double  blessing." 

Of  her  eight  children,  six  survived 


318  MARY    PERRY. 

her  ;  her  eldest  son  was  afterwards  made 
Lord  Lempster,  and  his  son  became 
Earl  of  Pomfret.  Her  children  were  all 
very  young  at  the  time  of  Sir  William's 
death,  and  she  devoted  herself  to  the 
care  of  them,  declining  all  proposals  for 
a  third  marriage.  She  spent  her  widow- 
hood atEaston  Neston,  in  Northampton- 
shire, an  estate  which  had  for  many 
years  belonged  to  the  family  of  the  Fer- 
mors,  and  where  she  had  herself  resided 
during  great  part  of  her  married  life, 
living  there  in  all  nearly  twenty  years. 

She  was  so  good  a  mistress  that  her 
servants  remained  with  her  some  seven, 
some  ten,  some  twenty  years,  during 
which  their  wages  were  paid  to  them  to 
a  day.  "  and  when  any  went  away  to  be 
married,  (for  they  seldom  parted  but  upon 
that  account,)  she  constantly  added  some- 
thing to  set  them  forth  into  the  world  ; 
yea,  more,  if  after  this  they  lived  within 
her  reach,  they  never  failed  of  her  coun- 
tenance and  kindness  ;  so  mindful  was 
she  of  them,  even  to  the  meanest,  that 
she  left  legacies  to  them  all  before  she 
died." 

Though  London  was  the  place  of  her 
birth,  she  would  not  live  there  to  the 
neglect  of  her  tenants  in  the  country, 
but  kept  up  a  constant  hospitality  and 
charity,  relieving  the  needy,  clothing 
widows,  educating  the  children  of  the 
poor,  who  lived  about  her  house  till  they 
were  old  enough  for  service  or  appren- 
ticeships, and  furnishing  the  sick  with 


LADY  MARY  HASTINGS.  319 

food  from  her  kitchen  as  freely  as  if  it 
had  been  their  own.  She  was  so  impa- 
tient of  being  in  debt,  that  she  never 
left  the  country,  though  but  for  a  month, 
without  paying  off  all  scores  before  her 
departure. 

She  was  ever  faithful  to  the  Church 
of  England  ;  and  even  whilst  it  was  un- 
der persecution,  she  constantly  observed 
its  services,  worshipping  God  twice  a 
day  in  her  family,  and  besides  that,  call- 
ing upon  him  in  her  closet  at  evening 
and  morning  and  at  noon-day,  according 
to  David's  resolution. 

She  died  of  a  fever  when  she  was 
forty-three  years  of  age,  having  first 
14  set  her  house  in  order,  by  a  timely 
disposal  of  her  estate  ;  and  her  soul  in 
order,  by  continual  devotions,  and  a  re- 
ceiving of  the  sacrament."  She  died  in 
London,  July,  1G70,  and  was  buried  at 
Easton  Neston. 

LADY  MARY  HASTINGS. 

Lady  Mary  Hastings  was  the  fifth 
daughter  of  Ferdinand,  Earl  of  Hunting- 
don, of  whom  Clarendon  records  that 
he  fled  from  the  battle  of  Edgehill, 
where  he  fought  on  the  rebel  side  whilst 
his  younger  brother  Henry  headed  a 
troop  of  horse  for  the  king.  Henry 
Hastings  also  defended  his  father's  house 
at  Ashby-de-la-Zouch,  and  was  after- 
wards made  general  of  the  royal  forces 
in  those  parts.     Lord  Hastings,  the  eld- 


320  LADY    MARY    HASTINGS. 

est  brother  of  Lady  Mary,  died  young 
and  much  lamented.  Of  her  sisters, 
one  married  Sir  James  Langham,  and  is 
recorded  in  her  funeral  sermon  as  a 
woman  of  much  piety  and  goodness. 
The  same  testimony  is  given  to  their 
mother,  the  daughter  of  Sir  John  Davies, 
Chief  Justice  of  the  King's  Bench  in 
Ireland,  and  author  of  two  remarkable 
works,  a  '  Poem  on  the  Immortality  of 
the  Soul,'  and  '  Historical  Relations  on 
Ireland.'  She  gave  her  daughters  a 
careful  and  religious  education,  but  it 
does  not  appear  whether  from  her,  Lady 
Mary  derived  those  principles  of  heart- 
felt loyalty  to  the  Church,  which  gov- 
erned the  whole  of  her  life. 

Mr.  Willes  says  of  her  in  her  funeral 
sermon,  that  "  having  upon  principles  of 
judgment  and  conviction  fully  satisfied 
herself,  she  conscientiously  and  devoutly 
adhered  to  the  doctrine,  worship,  and 
discipline  of  the  Church  of  England. 
And  though  (like  Mary  in  the  Gospel) 
she  had  chosen  the  better  part,  making 
religion  her  great  business  and  employ- 
ment, yet  she  was  sensibly  offended 
when  she  found  it  taken  notice  of,  un- 
less it  were  by  imitation.  Not  that  she 
was  ashamed  of  being  thought  religious, 
but  she  dreaded  the  hypocrisy  of  a  de- 
signed publication  that  she  was  so." 

She  was  composed  and  thoughtful  in 
her  childhood,  yet  capable  of  entertain- 
ing herself  and  others  with  innocent  in- 
genuities, and  sprightliness  of  conversa- 


LADY  MARY  HASTINGS.  321 

tion.  Her  understanding  was  quick, 
and  she  had  a  high  sense  of  honour, 
which  showed  itself,  not  in  any  inso- 
lence or  haughtiness,  but  in  a  regard  for 
all  things  that  were  great  and  noble. 

From  her  early  youth  she  preferred  a 
holy,  pure,  and  even  angelical  life,  to 
any  gaudy  vanities  of  the  world.  "  To 
know  God  and  to  be  like  Him,  was  her 
first  great  endeavour.  Her  devotions 
were  performed  at  least  three  times  a 
day,  for  which  she  used  the  most  pri- 
vate concealments,  not  only  to  avoid 
disturbance,  but  (what  she  more  shun- 
ned) discovery.  And  to  assist,  enlarge, 
and  enforce  her  devotions,  she  added  to 
them  frequent  fasts.  Upon  these  occa- 
sions she  would  seem  to  eat  and  to  take 
her  usual  repast,  that  she  might  escape 
observation  ;  nor  would  any  thing  more 
discompose  her,  than  an  inquiry  into  her 
abstinence." 

"  To  nourish  this  course  of  devotion, 
she  daily  drew  succours  from  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  beginning  and  ending  every 
day  with  some  portion  of  them,  and  this 
not  as  a  task  or  custom,  but  as  a  pecu- 
liar delight,  which  appeared  when  during 
her  early  years  she  resided  at  Derby, 
and  the  bell  at  four  in  the  morning,  even 
in  the  winter  season,  was  the  certain 
summons  to  her  devotions.  In  her  med- 
itations on  the  word  of  God,  she  drew 
assistance  not  only  from  public  sermons, 
but  from  the  best  and  soundest  exposi- 
tors that  our  Church  afforded." 


322  LADY  MART  HASTINGS. 

She  was  married  to  William  Joliffe, 
of  Caverswell  Castle,  in  Staffordshire, 
to  whom  she  proved  as  dutiful  a  wife  as 
she  had  been  a  dutiful  daughter  to  her 
parents  ;  she  was  observant  of  his  in- 
terests and  his  satisfaction  in  all  things, 
from  the  least  to  the  greatest,  and  he 
had  in  her  all  joy  and  delight. 

She  was  a  warm  and  faithful  friend, 
ready  to  return  affection  and  to  forgive 
injuries;  her  presence  repelled  approach- 
es to  vice  and  immorality  ;  but  if  occa- 
sion required  it,  she  could  reprove  them 
by  a  blush,  or  a  frown,  or  if  it  seemed 
expedient,  by  a  more  direct  confutation. 
Her  disposition  was  cheerful  and  com- 
posed, entirely  free  from  moroseness  or 
censoriousness.  "  She  attended  the 
church  upon  all  occasions,  and  her  mind 
was  so  much  fixed  upon  the  offices  of 
religion,  that  whenever  she  could  es- 
cape from  business  or  company,  she 
took  up  some  work  of  devotion,  and  re- 
turned to  those  spiritual  fruitions,  with 
new  appetites  and  impatient  desires. 
But  the  chief  of  all  her  joys  was  the 
blessed  sacrament,  where  she  found  the 
most  satisfying  refreshments  ;  she  laid 
hold  of  every  opportunity  to  partake  of 
that  holy  mystery  ;  and  during  her  resi- 
dence in  London  she  communicated 
every  month.  She  prepared  herself 
with  such  acts  of  devotion  and  religious 
austerity  as  if  it  had  been  the  last  act 
of  her  life,  and  that  she  were  to  pass 
from  the  altar  to  the  tribunal,  from  the 


LADY  MAKT  HASTINGS.  323 

table  of  our  Lord  to  his  judgment-seat." 
In  the  midst  of  her  preparations  for 
the  communion,  she  was  seized  with 
that  disease  which  soon  after  became 
mortal  to  her,  and  thenceforth  dismissing 
all  worldly  cares,  she  examined  her  past 
life  with  th«  strictest  scrutiny.  "  What 
passed  between  God  and  her  own  soul 
we  do  not  pretend  to  know,  but  she  dis- 
covered a  trouble,  not  without  bemoan- 
ing herself,  that  she  had  not  improved 
her  time  as  she  ought  to  have  done. 
One  thing  more  seemed  to  touch  her 
thoughts,  which  was  that  she  had  set 
her  heart  too  much  upon  her  little  child, 
so  jealous  was  she  lest  her  natural  affec- 
tion to  an  only  child  should  cause  any 
abatement  of  her  love  to  God." 

Her  mind  was  clear  throughout  her 
sickness,  and  rested  in  Christian  confi- 
dence on  the  merits  and  intercession  of 
her  dear  Lord  and  Saviour.  She  used 
her  perfect  sense  and  memory  to  the 
last  in  devout  prayers,  meditations  and 
discourses,  with  all  the  suitable  employ- 
ments of  a  departing  soul. 

"  At  last,  Without  agonies,  or  any 
great  pains,  without  frightful  accident, 
without  fears  and  horrors,  without  the 
disturbance  of  temptations ;  but  in  a 
sweet  calm  of  conscience,  in  steadfast 
faith,  and  perfect  charity,  in  joyful  ex- 
pectation of  eternal  life,  she  quietly  gave 
up  her  soul  into  the  hands  of  her  most 
Merciful  Redeemer."  She  died  in  1698, 
and  was  buried  at  Ashby-de-la-Zouch. 


324 


DOROTHY  LADY   PAKINGTON. 

The  name  of  Dorothy  Lady  Pak- 

Ington  cannot  here  be  omitted,  though 
very  few  circumstances  seem  to  be 
known  relating  to  her.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Thomas  Lord  Coventry, 
Lord  Keeper  of  the  great  seal,  and  was 
born  either  in  the  city  or  suburbs  of 
London,  about  the  middle  of  the  reign  of 
King  James  I.  Her  education  was  con- 
ducted with  great  care,  and  she  made 
good  progress  in  her  studies.  Dr. 
Hickes,  who  was  intimate  with  her  fam- 
ily, described  her  as  having  an  excellent 
judgment,  and  a  talent  for  conversation 
and  for  writing.  "  Hammond,  Morley, 
Fell,  and  Thomas,"  he  proceeds,  "those 
eminently  learned  men,  averred  she  was 
as  great  an  adept  in  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures as  themselves  were,  and  as  well 
versed  in  divinity"  and  in  practical  mo- 
rality. She  was  also  well  acquainted 
with  the  antiquities  of  her  own  country. 
*«  Nor  is  this  much  to  be  wondered  at, 
since  in  her  youth  she  had  the  learned 
Sir  Norton  Knatchbull  for  her  tutor ; 
and  after  she  was  married,  the  famous 
Hammond,  and  others  his  contempora- 
ries, very  celebrated  men,  for  her  com- 
panions and  instructors." 

After  her  marriage  to  Sir  John  Pak- 
ington  of  Westwood,  his  house  became 
the  resort  of  these  learned  and  pious 
men,  who  found  in  it  a  refuge  during  the 
times  of  trouble.     Dr.  Hammond  lived 


DOROTHY  LADY  PAKINGTON.       325 

several  years  in  their  family,  and  was 
buried  in  their  burial  place  at  Hampton 
Lovett,  in  a  chapel  built  by  an  ancestor 
of  the  Pakington  family.  One  anecdote 
is  related  of  his  stay  at  Westwood,  by 
Dr.  Fell,  in  his  Life  of  Hammond. 

"  One  Houseman,  a  weaver  by  trade, 
but  by  weakness  disabled  much  to  fol- 
low that  or  any  other  employment,  was 
extremely  his  favourite A  little  be- 
fore his  death,  he  and  the  Lady  Paking- 
ton being  walking,  Houseman  happened 
to  come  by,  to  whom,  after  the  doctor 
had  talked  in  his  usual  friendly  manner, 
he  let  him  pass  ;  yet  soon  after  called 
him  with  these  words  :  '  Houseman,  if 
it  should  please  God  that  I  should  be 
taken  from  this  place,  let  me  make  a 
bargain  between  my  lady  and  you,  that 
you  be  sure  to  come  to  her  with  the 
same  freedom  you  would  to  me  for  any 
thing  you  want  ;'  and  so  with  a  most 
tender  kindness  gave  his  benediction. 
Then  turning  to  the  lady,  he  said,  •  Will 
you  not-  think  it  strange  I  should  be 
more  affected  from  parting  from  House- 
man than  from  you  V  " 

He  instructed  the  children  and  ser- 
vants of  the  family  at  Westwood,  and  on 
his  death-bed  gave  his  blessing  to  his 
friends'  children.  It  was  to  Lady  Pak- 
ington's  question,  what  more  special 
thing  he  would  recommend  to  her  for 
her  whole  life,  that  he  gave  the  answer, 
"  Uniform  obedience,"  and  she  appears 
to  have  attended  him  to  the  last. 
k 


326  FRANCES    LADY    DIGBT. 

Her  own  death  did  not  take  place  till 
1679,  when  she  was  buried  at  Hampton 
Lovett. 

The  Whole  Duty  of  Man,  which  was 
found  in  her  hand-writing,  has  been 
commonly  attributed  to  her,  though  it 
still  remains  doubtful  whether  she  com- 
posed it,  or  copied  it  from  one  of  the  di- 
vines who  were  her  guests.  Several 
other  treatises  have  been  also  assigned 
to  her,  but  she  acknowledged  none  of 
them  during  her  life-time. 

FRANCES  LADY  DIGBY. 

The  more  peaceful  lives  now  to  be 
noticed,  recall  to  mind  the  following  pas- 
sage in  Jeremy  Taylor's  Great  Exem- 
plar. 

"  It  is  not  altogether  inconsiderable  to 
observe  that  the  holy  Virgin  came  to  a 
great  perfection  and  state  of  piety  by  a 
few,  and  those  modest  and  even  exer- 
cises and  external  actions.  St.  Paul 
travelled  over  the  world,  preached  to 
the  Gentiles,  disputed  against  the  Jews, 
confounded  heretics,  writ  excellently 
learned  letters,  suffered  dangers,  inju- 
ries, affronts,  and  persecutions  to  the 
height  of  wonder ;  and  by  these  vio- 
lences of  life,  action  and  patience,  ob- 
tained the  crown  of  an  excellent  religion' 
and  devotion.  But  the  holy  Virgin,  al- 
though she  was  engaged  sometimes  in 
an  active  life,  and  in  the  exercise  of  an 
ordinary  and  small  economy  and  govern- 


FRANCES  LADY  D1GBT.  327 

ment,  or  ministries  of  a  family,  yet  she 
arrived  to  her  perfections  by  the  means 
of  a  quiet  and  silent  piety,  the  internal 
actions  of  love,  devotion,  and  contempla- 
tion ;  and  instructs  us,  that  not  only 
those  who  have  opportunity  and  powers 
of  a  magnificent  religion,  or  a  pompous 
charity,  or  miraculous  conversion  of 
souls,  or  assiduous  and  active  preach- 
ings, or  exterior  demonstrations  of  cor- 
poral mercy,  shall  have  the  greatest 
crowns,  and  the  addition  of  degrees  and 
accidental  rewards  ;  but  the  silent  affec- 
tions, the  splendours  of  an  internal  devo- 
tion, the  unions  of  love,  humility  and 
obedience,  the  daily  offices  of  prayers 
and  praises  sung  to  God,  the  acts  of 
faith  and  fear,  of  patience  and  meekness, 
of  hope  and  reverence,  repentance  and 
charity,  and  those  graces  which  walk  in 
a  veil  and  silence,  make  great  ascents  to 
God,  and  as  sure  progress  to  favour  and 
a  crown,  as  the  more  ostentatious  and  la- 
borious exercises  of  a  more  solemn  reli- 
gion. No  man  needs  to  complain  of 
want  of  power  or  opportunities  for  reli- 
gious perfections  :  a  devout  woman  in. 
her  closet,  praying  with  much  zeal  and 
affection  for  the  conversion  of  souls,  is 
in  the  same  order  to  a  '  shining  like  the 
stars  in  glory,'  as  he  who,  by  excellent 
discourses,  puts  it  into  a  more  forward 
disposition  to  be  actually  performed. 
And  possibly  her  prayers  obtained  en- 
ergy and  force  to  my  sermon,  and  made 
the  ground  fruitful,  and  the  seed  spring 
k  2 


328  FRANCES  LADY  DIGBT. 

up  to  life  eternal.  Many  times  God  is 
present  in  the  still  voice  and  private  re- 
tirements of  a  quiet  religion,  and  the 
constant  spiritualities  of  an  ordinary 
life ;  when  the  loud  and  impetuous 
winds,  and  the  shining  fires  of  more  la- 
borious and  expensive  actions,  are  profit- 
able to  others  only,  like  a  tree  of  balsam, 
distilling  precious  liquor  for  others,  not 
for  its  own  use." 

Lady  Frances  Noel  was  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Edward,  Lord  Gainsborough, 
and  grand-daughter,  through  her  mother, 
Elizabeth  Wriothesly,  to  the  Lord 
Treasurer,  commonly  called  the  virtuous 
Southampton.  She  was  married  to  Si- 
mon Lord  Digby,  and  lived  with  him  a 
fewyears  of  happiness.  Lord  Digby  gave 
the  living  of  Coleshill,  where  he  resided 
with  his  wife,  to  Mr.  Kettlewell,  at  the 
end  of  the  year  1682.  The  year  after 
Lady  Digby  had  a  daughter,  afterwards 
married  to  Lord  Scudamore,  and  in  the 
following  year  she  died.  Her  husband 
survived  her  only  a  few  months,  for  her 
death  took  place  in  October,  1684,  and 
his  in  January,  1685.  He  was  succeed- 
ed by  his  brother  William,  who  after- 
wards married  Lady  Jane  Noel,  the 
younger  sister  of  Frances,  and  lived  to 
a  great  age.  Mr.  Kettlewell  continued 
in  habits  of  intimacy  with  the  Dowager 
Lady  Digby,  the  mother  of  his  friend, 
and  composed  for  her  a  monumental  in- 
scription in  1692,  when  having  been  de- 
prived of  his  cure  for  refusing  to  take 


FRANCES    LADY  DIGBY.  329 

the  oaths  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  he 
was  no  longer  able  to  preach.  The  fu- 
neral sermons  of  Simon  and  his  wife 
were  both  preached  by  him,  and  afford 
the  highest  idea  of  their  Christian  char- 
acter. Of  Lord  Digby's  it  is  only  in 
place  here  to  say,  that  it  shows  how 
happy  his  wife  was  in  such  a  guide  and 
counsellor.  Kettlewell  sums  it  up  in 
these  words  :  "  He  was  a  well-studied 
and  improved  Christian  ;  able  to  plead 
for  virtue  and  goodness  with  such  reason 
and  argument  as  might  become  a  preach- 
er, and  careful  to  adorn  it  with  such 
exactness  as  might  adorn  a  cloister.  He 
was  a  person  of  very  sincere  and  warm 
devotion  ;  a  most  religious  honourer  of 
God,  and  of  the  clergy  for  God's  and 
their  function's  sake  ;  an  affectionate 
admirer  of  true  virtue  and  worth  where- 
soever he  found  it ;  a  sincere  and  zeal- 
ous son  of  the  Church  of  England,  in 
whose  communion  he  lived  and  died,  de- 
siring above  all  things  in  his  last  ex- 
tremities, to  receive  the  holy  Sacrament 
and  priestly  absolution  according  to  its 
order  and  appointment ;  and  a  faithful 
and  serviceable  subject  to  the  king.  He 
was  strict  in  his  trusts  ;  faithful  and  ac- 
tive in  his  friendships  ;  a  dutiful  son  ; 
and  discreet  and  loving  husband  ;  a  good 
and  careful  master  to  his  servants  ;  and 
in  the  inclination  of  his  mind,  and  ac- 
cording to  the  opportunities  of  his  life, 
an  universal  friend  and  benefactor  unto 
all." 

k  3 


330  TRANCES  LADY  DIGBY. 

"  In  distributing  his  alms,  his  rule 
was  to  distinguish  between  objects,  that 
he  might  give  wisely,  to  supply  real 
wants,  not  to  support  idleness ;  and  then 
to  give  freely  and  liberally,  with  all  se- 
crecy." "  Out  of  his  sincere  zeal  for 
the  honour  of  God,  and  the  beauty  of 
his  house  and  worship,  he  adorned  the 
choir  of  his  own  church  (of  Coleshill) 
and  nobly  augmented  the  furniture  of 
communion-plate.  Upon  the  death  of 
his  excellent  lady,  besides  his  liberality 
to  every  adjacent  parish  for  a  present 
distribution,  he  allotted  a  considerable 
sum  to  the  use  of  the  poor  for  a  perpet- 
ual settlement." 

Nelson  says  in  his  Life  of  Kettlewell, 
that  he  was  happily  placed  at  Coleshill, 
being  in  high  esteem  with  Lord  Digby 
and  his  family,  and  having  the  best  pros- 
pects of  doing  good  there."  "  But  it 
pleased  God  to  take  from  him  very  soon 
the  chief  of  his  supports,  in  which  great 
part  of  his  outward  happiness  was  placed 
by  him ;  the  which  he  esteemed  insepa- 
rable from  that  of  the  noble  family  to 
which  he  was  obliged  next  under  God, 
and  to  which  he  stood  in  the  nearest 
spiritual  relations,  ministering  to  them 
in  holy  things,  with  all  gladness  of  heart. 
The  influence  which  he  had  hereby  up- 
on the  Lord  and  Lady  Digby  was  very 
considerable,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  ef- 
fects." 

The  character  of  Lady  Digby  must  be 
given  in  the  words  of  his  sermon. 


FRANCES  LADY  DIGBT.  331 

**  But  the  righteous  hath  hope  in  his 
death.1'' — Prov.  xiv.  32. 

"  But  hitherto  I  have  only  laid  down 
the  rule,  and  I  have  still  another  work 
to  do,  which  is,  to  set  it  off  yet  further, 
in  a  fair  pattern  and  example  of  it.  I 
mean  the  excellent  noble  person  now 
deceased,  the  character  of  whose  virtues 
will  give  life  to  all  that  I  have  said,  and 
be  the  best  and  most  useful  thing  in  all 
my  discourse.  She  was  a  great  instance 
of  many  virtues,  nay  of  some  which  are 
almost  lost  in  practice,  which  seem  to 
reign  scarcely  any  where  but  upon  men's 
tongues,  as  if  they  were  impracticable 
rules,  that  were  never  intended  to  be 
followed  and  performed,  but  only  to  be 
praised  and  talked  of.  And  I  cannot  do 
more  right  to  those  neglected  graces, 
than  to  show  the  remiss  and  slothful 
world  that  they  are  more  than  words, 
and  are  real  living  things,  made  visible 
to  all  in  the  excellency  of  her  practice. 

•*  God  had  endowed  her  with  an  ex- 
cellent nature,  which  prevented  many 
of  the  great  self-denials  in  religion,  and 
made  it  to  her  a  tolerable  easy  thing. 
This  is  an  invaluable  blessing  bestowed 
by  the  Almighty,  and  it  was  eminent  in 
her.  To  be  universally  kind  and  pleas- 
ing was  one  of  the  most  natural  things 
in  her  character,  which  made  a  religion 
of  love  to  be  embraced  without  opposi- 
tion. And  together  with  this  kindness 
of  nature,  He  had  blessed  her  with  much 
humility  of  mind,  and  with  a  just  se- 
k  4 


332  FRANCES  LADY  DIGBY. 

riousness  and  composure  of  spirit,  which 
made  her  apt  for  devotion  and  wise 
counsels,  and  easy  to  receive  and  retain 
any  good  impressions,  which  should  be 
stamped  upon  her. 

11  Heaven's  watchful  care  provided  a 
husband  for  her,  who,  to  the  intimacy  of 
his  relation  to  her  as  a  wife,  the  chief  of 
worldly  friendships,  coveted  to  add  a 
nobler  friendship  still,  which  was  ground- 
ed upon  similarity  of  souls  and  virtuous 
foundations,  and  was  designed  to  serve 
the  most  excellent  purposes  of  religion, 
in  making  each  other  better  and  wiser, 
which  is  the  perfection  of  the  wisest 
and  most  exalted  friendships,  between 
the  most  endeared  persons. 

"  Thus  liberally  had  God  endowed 
this  select  soul  with  inclinations  to  vir- 
tue and  goodness,  and  with  opportuni- 
ties to  ripen  and  improve  them.  And 
had  he  spared  her  a  longer  life,  wherein 
to  employ  the  talents  which  He  had 
given,  we  may  justly  expect  the  increase 
would  have  been  in  a  greater  measure 
and  proportion.  But  though  her  race 
was  quickly  done,  for  she  died  in  the 
twenty-third  year  of  her  age,  yet  she 
had  run  much  in  a  little  time  :  in  her 
green  years  she  had  attained  a  maturity 
in  goodness,  and  was  grown  ripe  in  the 
true  ends  and  arts  of  living  ;  and  the  ef- 
fect of  these  advantages  was  visible  in 
an  exemplary  and  truly  Christian  con- 
versation. To  recount  all  her  virtues, 
is  more  than  I  can  pretend  to  do  ;    they 


FRANCES  LADY  DI6BT.  333 

were  known  only  to  God  ;  but  for  the 
imitation  of  those  whom  she  has  left  be- 
hind her,  I  shall  observe  these  follow- 
ing. Her  piety  was  great  towards  Al- 
mighty God.  She  knew  what  honour 
and  homage,  we  all  owe  to  Him,  and  was 
careful  to  discharge  these  duties.  She 
would  converse  with  Him  daily  in  her 
closet  retirements,  and  constantly  do 
Him  service  in  the  public  assembly  ;  not 
allowing  herself  to  neglect  the  service  of 
God  for  little  reasons  and  inconveni- 
encies,  which  can  keep  none  back,  but 
those  who  have  too  little  zeal  for  God, 
and  too  much  sloth  fulness  of  spirit.  And 
to  show  how  sincerely  she  resorted 
thither,  and  not  at  all  to  set  off  herself, 
but  purely  for  pious  ends  ;  at  church 
she  did  affect  plainness  of  dress,  and 
6ought  not  to  recommend  herself  to  oth- 
ers by  elaborate  attire  and  outward 
adorning  ;  but  only  to  God  by  the  de- 
votion of  her  mind,  and  the  ornament  of 
an  '  humble'  and  a  '  meek  spirit  which  in 
the  sight  of  God  are  of  great  price.'  She 
was  in  a  constant  preparation,  as  are  all 
good  souls,  for  the  holy  sacrament,  and 
careful  to  embrace  all  opportunities  of 
joining  in  it :  for  since  I  had  the  happi- 
ness to  observe  her,  she  never  missed  a 
communion,  but  was  always  one  in  that 
highest  instance  of  devotion,  to  offer  up 
the  sacrifice  of  a  devout  heart,  and 
thankfully  to  acknowledge  the  stupend- 
ous love  of  God  and  of  our  dearest  Sa- 
viour to  mankind.  Such  was  the  devo- 
k  5 


334  FRANCES  LADY  DIGBT. 

tion  of  this  fair  saint  towards  Almighty 
God,  which  did  not  come  upon  her  at 
intervals,  but  was  a  settled  habit,  which 
dwelt  upon  her  spirit.  And  in  all  this 
she  showed  an  inward  and  hearty  piety, 
as  one  who  plainly  sought  to  be  good 
between  herself  and  Him  who  seeth  in 
secret.  For  her  religion  did  not  seek  to 
show  itself  in  an  atfected  outside,  in 
studied  appearances,  in  talk  and  noise ; 
but  in  all  the  modesty,  silence,  and  gra- 
vity, of  a  hearty  and  unaffected  godli- 
ness. She  was  good  after  the  best  fash- 
ion, in  an  inward  religion,  which  though 
it  showed  itself  in  such  reverent  and 
composed  mien,  as  naturally  flowed  from, 
and  testified  a  spirit  greatly  affected ; 
yet  did  not  appear  in  any  thing  which 
could  seem  chosen  for  display  or  affecta- 
tion. 

'k  And  as  she  was  thus  careful  to  ad- 
dress herself  to  God,  so,  which  is  a  more 
real  instance  of  a  governing  piety,  could 
she  quietly  resign  herself  to  His  will  in 
the  bitterest  trials  of  His  providence, 
and  trust  Him  with  all  things.  The  best 
remedy  in  afflictions,  as  she  said,  was 
prayer  to  God  ;  and  when  she  was  tried 
with  them,  she  found  the  effect  of  it  in 
an  humble,  calm,  and  uncontesting  re- 
signation. And  to  show  the  firm  and 
settled  confidence  which  she  had  placed 
in  His  care,  when  she  was  surprised  by 
death,  she  looked  upon  the  sweet  babe, 
whom  she  was  to  leave  behind  her,  as  so 
secure  in  the  custody  of  Almighty  God, 


FRANCES  LADY  DIGBT.  335 

and  the  care  of  her  dear  husband,  that 
the  thoughts  of  it  did  not  in  the  least 
trouble  her. 

"As  to  the  government  of  herself,  and 
those  virtues  which  were  chiefly  due  to 
her  own  person  ;  she  was  endowed  with 
an  even  temper,  and  the  command  of  her 
own  inclinations,  with  humility,  sinceri- 
ty, and  other  virtues,  and  was  a  great 
example  in  all  of  them. 

"  And  then  as  for  her  carriage  towards 
all  the  world,  how  truly  a  Christian 
part  did  she  act,  in  a  constant  kindness, 
candour  and  affability.  In  all  these,  her 
life  was  full  of  deserved  praise  to  her- 
self, and  very  useful  and  instructive  un- 
to others,  fit  to  direct  the  lives,  and  ex- 
cite the  imitation  of  all  those  who  had 
the  opportunity  of  beholding  it. 

"  In  a  word,  she  was  a  truly  excellent 
and  amiable  person  ;  plentifully  endow- 
ed with  those  qualities  which  may  gain 
love,  and  with  those  virtues  which  de- 
serve imitation.  And  she  had  this  testi- 
mony to  her  worth,  which  shows  not 
only  the  reality,  but  the  greatness  of  it: 
she  was  not,  as  too  many  others  are, 
best  liked  at  first,  but  still  grew  higher 
in  esteem,  as  she  was  longer  and  better 
known.  For  she  had  such  a  stock  of 
true  and  solid  goodness,  as  could  not  be 
discovered,  especially  through  the  veil 
which  her  modesty  cast  before  it,  till 
time  drew  it  out,  and  still  administered 
matter  to  those  who  beheld  her,  for  a 
new  and  growing  affection.  She  envied 
k  6 


336  FRANCES  LADY  D1GBY. 

no  person's  condition,  but  was  pleased 
and  contented  in  her  own.  She  was  a 
sincere  Christian,  an  ornament  to  her 
husband,  by  whom  she  was  dearly  be- 
loved, and  in  her  memory  highly  hon- 
oured, as  she  most  justly  deserved  to  be, 
and  an  extraordinary  blessing  to  this 
family,  who  do  resignedly  submit  to  it 
as  to  what  God  has  ordered,  but  who 
think  the  loss  of  such  a  treasure  so  great, 
that  in  this  world  they  dare  not  hope  to 
meet  with  any  thing  that  can  repair  it. 

"And  what  is  still  the  crown  and  glo- 
ry of  all  these  perfections,  amidst  all 
this,  she  was,  as  I  have  hinted,  so  free 
from  ostentation,  and  so  opposite  to  any 
thing  that  looked  like  seeking  praise, 
that  nothing  in  this  world  could  excel 
her  in  these  qualities.  She  was  a  per- 
son, as  of  a  very  great,  so  of  a  very  con- 
cealed goodness.  She  used  arts  to 
hide  her  virtues,  and  would  hardly  be 
brought  to  acknowledge  any  thing  to  her 
just  praise,  and  did  as  truly  take  pains 
to  avoid  the  opinion  of  being  excellent  in 
any  endowments,  as  others  do  to  obtain 
it.  So  that  she  was  like  the  sun  wrapt 
up  in  a  cloud,  her  rays  were  cast  all  in- 
ward, and,  as  far  as  she  could  order  it, 
shone  only  to  herself,  and  to  Almighty 
God.  She  would,  it  seems,  as  far  as 
she  was  able,  be  altogether  good  for  His 
sake,  and  seek  no  worldly  advantage  by 
it :  but  at  the  same  time  that  she  aspired 
to  be  great  in  goodness,  she  shunned 
the  reputation  of  being  so  considered. 


FRANCES  LADY  DIGBY.  337 

"  Such  were  the  virtues,  and  thus 
considerable  were  the  attainments,  of 
this  pious  soul  in  righteousness.  And 
being  so  well  stored  in  goodness,  it  may 
well  be  expected  that  she  should  have 
her  share  in  comforts,  and,  as  the  text 
says,  have  hope  in  her  death.  And  so, 
indeed,  it  was.  Her  death  was  very 
sudden,  suspected  by  none,  nor,  in  all 
appearance,  by  herself,  till  she  awoke  in 
the  jaws  of  it,  and  said  she  was  dying. 
This  was  very  short  warning.  But 
though  it  may  be  sudden,  it  is  never  too 
soon  to  a  good  Christian.  A  well-spent 
life  is  such  a  preparation,  that  although 
it  comes  the  most  unexpected,  death  can 
never  take  them  unprovided,  but  they 
may  meet  it  upon  any  intimation.  But 
this  suddenness,  though  it  could  not  en- 
danger the  safety,  yet  was  a  mighty 
trial  of  the  clear  conscience  and  firm 
hopes  of  this  excellent  person.  Had  she 
been  conscious  of  any  thing  to  affright 
her,  then,  no  doubt,  had  been  the  time 
to  fear,  when  the  Judge  had  sent  the 
summons,  and  called  her  in  to  come  be- 
fore Him.  But  from  the  applause  of  a 
clear  conscience,  which  having  been 
hitherto  a  faithful  guide,  proved  now  a 
comfort  to  her;  this  happy  soul,  in  that 
surprise,  had  a  clear,  cheerful  confidence, 
and  a  foretaste  of  that  joy  and  peace, 
which  God  was  preparing  for  her. 

►*  Though  she  knew  that  she  was  de- 
parting in  haste,  she  could  still  spend 
some  of  those  few  minutes  which  sie  had 
k  7 


338  FRANCES  LADY   D1GBT. 

yet  remaining,  to  declare  her  mind  in 
so  me  things  which  she  would  have  order- 
ed. And  observing  her  nurse,  who  was 
attending  her,  to  weep,  with  an  even  and 
undisturbed  mind  she  rebuked  her,  and 
bade  her  not  weep  for  her,  for  she  was 
about  to  be  happy,  and,  she  humbly 
trusted,  to  be  an  angel  in  heaven. 

11  And  thus  I  have  endeavoured  to  give 
some  account  of  this  excellent  person, 
and  to  unfold  some  of  her  virtues,  which 
may  bring  honour  to  God,  and  the  great- 
est benefit  to  ourselves,  by  our  godly 
imitation  of  them.  This,  though  to  some 
who  knew  her  not,  or  who  looked  not 
near  or  long  enough  upon  her  to  discover 
a  goodness  so  silent  and  secret,  it  may 
seem  an  ample,  yet  to  those  who  knew 
her  best,  perhaps  will  appear  to  be  an 
imperfect  picture.  But  I  pretend  not  to 
give  a  perfect  description  of  her.  She 
was  of  such  a  modest  goodness,  and  her 
virtues  were  so  industriously  concealed, 
that  I  believe  that  a  just  account  of 
them  is  only  known  to  God,  and  must 
then  only  be  laid  out  at  large  tb  all  the 
world,  when  He  comes  to  reward  openly 
what  was  done  in  secret.  I  have  only 
designed  to  draw  this  fair  saint  in  such 
virtues,  as  I  desire,  from  her  copy,  to 
translate  into  others'  practice.  For 
nothing  is  more  instructive  to  the  world, 
and  more  likely  to  bring  virtue  into 
practice,  than  to  portray  it  in  the  lives 
and  acts  of  pious  persons.  This  shows 
men  *#hat  they  are  to  do  in  religion,  and 


MARY    EVELYN.  .  339 

withal  that  it  is  a  feasible  thing  to  be 
attempted  ;  and  therein  both  directs  and 
excites  to  imitation.  I  am  sure  that 
there  is  much  to  be  learned  in  such  a 
pattern  as  this  is ;  and  as  the  world  has 
great  need,  so* I  hope  it  will  reap  some 
profit  by  such  examples. 

44  What  farther  now  remains  for  us, 
but  to  preserve  the  memory  of  her  great 
virtues  always  fresh  in  our  minds,  and 
to  express  the  copy  of  them  in  our  prac- 
tice ?  For  it  is  the  best  way  of  remem- 
bering the  dead,  and  that  which  brings 
most  advantage  to  ourselves  and  honour 
to  them,  to  imitate  what  was  good  in 
them  ;  when  the  piety  and  humility,  and 
justice,  and  charity,  and  other  virtues  of 
the  dead,  are  kept  alive,  and  shown  in 
the  conversation  of  the  living.  It  is 
only  these  virtues  which  carried  those 
who  are  gone,  and  which  can  carry  us 
also,  in  the  end,  to  a  joyful  resurrection. 
Whereunto,  in  Thy  due  time,  do  Thou, 
O  blessed  God,  in  Thine  abundant  good- 
ness, bring  us  all  for  Christ  His  sake. 
Amen." 

MARY  EVELYN. 

Mary  Evelyn,  eldest  daughter  of 
John  Evelyn,  was  born  October  1st, 
1665,  after  six  sons,  and  is  mentioned 
occasionally  in  his  Diary,  as  in  1679,  he 
speaks  of  her  receiving  the  holy  com- 
munion for  the  first  time  when  she  was 
about  fourteen,  adding  a  devout  wish 
that  she  might  have  grace  to  improve 
k  8 


340  MART    EVELYN. 

this  blessed  beginning.  His  other  occa- 
sional mentions  of  her,  regard  her  ac- 
complishments in  music,  &c,  till,  in 
1684,  when  she  had  reached  her  nine- 
teenth year,  he  notices  her  illness,  and 
then  her  death,  followed  by  a  full  out- 
pouring of  paternal  love,  which  can  be 
given  only  in  his  own  words. 

"  March  7th,  1684.  My  daughter 
Mary  was  taken  with  the  smallpox,  and 
there  soon  was  found  no  hope  of  her  re- 
covery. A  great  affliction  to  me  :  but 
God's  holy  will  be  done. 

"March  10.  She  received  the  blessed 
sacrament ;  after  which,  disposing  her- 
self to  suffer  what  God  should  determine 
to  inflict,  she  bore  the  remainder  of  her 
sickness  with  extraordinary  patience  and 
piety,  and  more  than  ordinary  resigna- 
tion and  blessed  frame  of  mind.  She 
died  the  14th,  to  our  unspeakable  sorrow 
and  affliction,  and  not  to  ours  only,  but 
that  of  all  who  knew  her,  who  were 
many  of  the  best  quality,  greatest  and 
most  virtuous  persons.  The  justness  of 
her  stature,  person,  comeliness  of  coun- 
tenance, gracefulness  of  motion,  unaf- 
fected, though  more  than  ordinary  beau- 
tiful, were  the  least  of  her  ornaments 
compared  with  those  of  her  mind.  Of 
early  piety,  singularly  religious,  spend- 
ing a  part  of  every  day  in  private  devo- 
tion, reading,  and  other  virtuous  exer- 
cises ;  she  had  collected  and  written  out 
many  of  the  most  useful  and  judicious 
periods  of  the  books  she  read  in  a  kind 


MARY    EVELYN.  341 

of  common -place,  as  out  of  Dr.  Ham- 
mond on  the  New  Testament,  and  most 
of  the  best  practical  treatises.  She  had 
read  and  digested  a  considerable  deal  of 
history  and  of  places.  The  French 
tongue  was  as  familiar  to  her  as  English  ; 
she  understood  Italian,  and  was  able  to 
render  a  laudable  account  of  what  she 
read  and  observed,  to  which  assisted  a 
most  faithful  memory  and  discernment; 
and  she  did  make  very  prudent  and  dis- 
creet reflections  upon  what  she  had  ob- 
served of  the  conversations  among  which 
she  had  at  any  time  been,  which  being 
continually  of  persons  of  the  best  qual- 
ity, she  thereby  improved.  She  had  an 
excellent  voice,  to  which  she  played  a 
thorough-bass  on  the  harpsichord,  in  both 
which  she  arrived  to  that  perfection, 
that  of  the  scholars  of  those  two  famous 
masters,  Signors  Pietro  and  Bartholo- 
meo,  she  was  esteemed  the  best ;  for  the 
sweetness  of  her  voice  and  management 
of  it  added  such  an  agreeableness  to  her 
countenance,  without  any  constraint  or 
concern,  that  when  she  sung,  it  was  as 
charming  to  the  eye  as  to  the  ear  ;  this 
I  rather  note,  because  it  was  a  universal 
remark,  and  for  which  so  many  noble 
and  judicious  persons  in  music  desired  to 
hear  her,  the  last  being  at  Lord  Arun- 
del's of  Wardour.  What  shall  I  say,  or 
rather  not  say,  of  the  cheerfulness  and 
agreeableness  of  her  humour  ?  Conde- 
scending to  the  meanest  servant  in  the 
family,  or  others,  she  still  kept  up  re- 
k  9 


342  MART    EVELYN. 

spect,  without  the  least  pride.  She 
would  often  read  to  them,  examine,  in- 
struct, and  pray  with  them  if  they  were 
sick,  so  as  she  was  exceedingly  beloved 
of  every  body.  Piety  was  so  prevalent 
an  ingredient  in  her  constitution,  (as  I 
may  say,)  that  even  amongst  equals  and 
superiors  she  no  sooner  became  inti- 
mately acquainted,  but  she  would  en- 
deavour to  improve  them,  by  insinuating 
something  of  religion,  and  that  tended 
to  bring  them  to  a  love  of  devotion  ;  she 
had  one  or  two  confidants  with  whom 
she  used  to  pass  whole  days  in  fasting, 
reading,  and  prayers,  especially  before 
the  monthly  communion  and  other  solemn 
occasions. 

**  She  abhorred  flattery ;  and  though 
she  had  abundance  of  wit,  the  raillery 
was  so  innocent  and  ingenuous  that  it 
was  most  agreeable.  She  sometimes 
would  see  a  play  ;  but  since  the  stage 
grew  licentious,  expressed  herself  weary 
of  them,  and  the  time  spent  at  the  the- 
atre was  an  unaccountable  vanity.  She 
never  played  at  cards  without  extreme 
importunity,  and  for  the  company ;  but 
this  was  so  very  seldom,  that  I  cannot 
number  it  among  any  thing  she  could 
name  a  fault.  Mo  one  could  read  prose 
or  verse  better,  or  with  more  judgment ; 
and  as  she  read,  so  she  wrote,  not  only 
most  correct  orthography,  with  that 
maturity  of  judgment  and  exactness  of 
the  periods,  choice  of  expressions,  and 
familiarity  of  style,  that  some  letters  of 


MART    EVELYW.  343 

hers  have  astonished  me  and  others  to 
whom  she  has  occasionally  written.  She 
had  a  talent  of  rehearsing  any  comical 
part  or  poem,  as  to  them  she  might  be 
decently  free  with  was  more  pleasing 
than  heard  in  the  theatre ;  she  danced 
with  the  greatest  grace  I  had  ever  seen, 
and  so  would  her  master  say,  who  was 
Mons.  Isaac  ;  but  she  seldom  showed  the 
perfection,  save  in  the  gracefulness  of 
her  carriage,  which  was  with  an  air  of 
sprightly  modesty  not  easily  to  be  de- 
scribed. Nothing  affected,  but  natural 
and  easy  as  well  in  her  deportment  as  in 
her  discourse,  which  was  always  mate- 
rial, not  trifling,  and  to  which  the  extra- 
ordinary sweetness  of  her  tone,  even  in 
familiar  speaking,  was  very  charming. 
Nothing  was  so  pretty  as  her  descending 
to  play  with  little  children,  whom  she 
would  caress  and  humour  with  great  de- 
light. But  she  most  affected  to  be  with 
grave  and  sober  men,  of  whom  she  might 
learn  something,  and  improve  herself.  I 
have  been  assisted  by  her  in  reading  and 
praying  by  me  ;  comprehensive  of  un- 
common notions,  curious  of  knowing 
every  thing  to  some  excess,  had  I  not 
sometimes  repressed  it.  Nothing  was  so 
delightful  to  her  as  to  go  into  my  study, 
where  she  would  willingly  have  spent 
whole  days ;  for,  as  I  said,  she  had  read 
abundance  of  history,  and  all  the  best 
poets,  even  Terence,  Plautus,  Homer, 
Virgil,  Horace,  Ovid  ;  all  the  best  ro- 
mances and  modern  poems  ;  she  could 


344  MART    EVELYN. 

compose  happily,  and  put  in  pretty  sym- 
bols, as  in  the  '  Mundus  Muliebris,"  (a 
poem  of  Mr.  Evelyn's,  reprinted  in  his 
Miscellaneous  Wrirings,  1825,  4to.,  page 
697-713,)  "wherein  is  an  enumeration 
of  the  immense  variety  of  the  modes  and 
ornaments  belonging  to  the  sex  ;  but  all 
these  are  vain  trifles  to  the  virtues  which 
adorned  her  soul ;  she  was  sincerely  re- 
ligious, most  dutiful  to  her  parents,  whom 
she  loved  with  an  affection  tempered 
with  great  esteem,  so  as  we  were  easy 
and  free,  and  never  were  so  well  pleased 
as  when  she  was  with  us,  nor  needed 
we  other  conversation  ;  she  was  kind  to 
her  sisters,  and  was  still  improving  them 
by  her  constant  course  of  piety.  Oh, 
dear,  sweet,  and  desirable  child,  how 
shall  I  part  with  all  this  goodness  and 
virtue,  without  the  bitterness  of  sorrow 
and  reluctancy  of  a  tender  parent !  Thy 
affection,  duty,  and  love  to  me  was  that 
of  a  friend  as  well  as  a  child.  Nor  less 
dear  to  thy  mother,  whose  example  and 
tender  care  of  thee  was  unparalleled,  nor 
was  thy  return  to  her  less  conspicuous  : 
Oh !  how  she  mourns  thy  loss !  how 
desolate  hast  thou  left  us  !  To  the  grave 
shall  we  both  carry  thy  memory  ! 

**  God  alone  (in  whose  bosom  thou  art 
at  rest  and  happy  !)  give  us  to  resign 
thee  and  all  our  contentment  (for  thou 
indeed  wert  all  in  this  world)  to  His 
blessed  pleasure!  let  Him  be  glorified 
by  our  submission,  and  give  us  grace  to 
bless  Him  for  the  graces  He  implanted 


MART    EVELYN.  345 

in  thee,  thy  virtuous  life,  pious  and  holy 
death,  which  is  indeed  the  only  comfort 
of  our  souls,  hastening  through  the  infi- 
nite love  and  mercy  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
to  be  shortly  with  thee,  dear  child,  and 
with  thee  and  those  blessed  saints  like 
thee,  glorify  the  Redeemer  of  the  world 
to  all  eternity  !  Amen  ! 

"  It  was  in  the  nineteenth  year  of  her 
age  that  this  sickness  happened  to  her. 
An  accident  contributed  to  this  disease  ; 
she  had  an  apprehension  of  it  in  particu- 
lar, which  struck  her  but  two  days  before 
she  came  home,  by  an  imprudent  gentle- 
woman whom  she  went  with  Lady  Falk- 
land to  visit,  who,  after  they  had  been  a 
good  while  in  the  house,  told  them  she 
had  a  servant  sick  of  the  smallpox;  (who 
indeed  died  the  next  day ;)  this  my  poor 
child  acknowledged  made  an  impression 
on  her  spirits.  There  were  four  gentle- 
men of  quality  offering  to  treat  with  me 
about  marriage,  and  1  freely  gave  her 
her  own  choice,  knowing  her  discretion. 
She  showed  great  indifference  to  marry- 
ing at  all  :  'for  truly,  says  she  to  her 
mother,  (the  other  day,)  •  were  I  assured 
of  your  life  and  my  dear  father's,  never 
would  I  part  from  you ;  I  love  you  and 
this  home  where  we  serve  God,  above 
all  things,  nor  ever  shall  I  be  so  happy  ; 
I  know  and  consider  the  vicissitudes  of 
the  world,  I  have  some  experience  of  its 
vanities,  and  but  for  decency  more  than 
inclination,  and  that  you  judge  it  expe- 
dient for  me,  I  would  not  change  my 


346  MART    EVELYN. 

condition,  but  rather  add  the  fortune  you 
design  me  to  my  sisters,  and  keep  up 
the  reputation  of  our  family.'  This  was 
so  discreetly  and  sincerely  uttered,  that 
it  could  not  but  proceed  from  an  extra- 
ordinary child,  and  one  who  loved  her 
parents  beyond  example. 

"  At  London  she  took  this  fatal  dis- 
ease, and  the  occasion  of  her  being  there 
was  this  :  My  Lord  Viscount  Falkland's 
lady  having  been  our  neighbour,  (as  he 
was  Treasurer  of  the  Navy,)  she  took  so 
great  an  affection  to  my  daughter,  that 
when  they  went  back  in  the  autumn  to 
the  city,  nothing  would  satisfy  their  in- 
cessant importunity  but  letting  her  ac- 
company my  lady,  and  staying  some 
time  with  her ;  it  was  with  the  greatest 
reluctance  I  complied.  Whilst  she  was 
there,  my  lord  being  musical,  when  I 
saw  my  lady  would  not  part  with  her 
till  Christmas,  I  was  not  unwilling  she 
should  improve  the  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing of  Sig.  Pietro,  who  had  an  admirable 
way  both  of  composing  and  teaching.  It 
was  the  end  of  February  before  I  could 
prevail  with  my  lady  to  part  with  her : 
but  my  lord  going  into  Oxfordshire  to 
stand  for  knight  of  the  shire  there,  she 
expressed  her  wish  to  come  home,  being 
tired  of  the  vain  and  empty  conversation 
of  the  town,  the  theatres,  the  court,  and 
trifling  visits  which  consumed  so  much 
precious  time,  and  made  her  sometimes 
miss  of  that  regular  course  of  piety  that 
gave  her  the  greatest  satisfaction.     She 


MART    EVELYN.  347 

was  weary  of  this  life,  and  I  think  went 
not  thrice  to  court  all  this  time,  except 
when  her  mother  or  I  carried  her.  She 
did  not  affect  showing  herself;  she  knew 
the  court  well,  and  passed  one  summer 
in  it  at  Windsor  with  Lady  Tuke,  one 
of  the  queen's  women  of  the  bedchamber; 
(a  most  virtuous  relation  of  hers;)  she 
was  not  fond  of  that  glittering  scene,  now 
become  abominably  licentious,  though 
there  was  a  design  of  Lady  Rochester 
and  Lady  Clarendon  to  have  made  her  a 
maid  of  honour  to  the  queen  as  soon  as 
there  was  a  vacancy.  But  this  she  did 
not  set  her  heart  upon,  nor  indeed  on 
any  thing  so  much  as  the  service  of  God, 
a  quiet  and  regular  life,  and  how  she 
might  improve  herself  in  the  most  ne- 
cessary accomplishments,  and  to  which 
she  was  arrived  at  so  great  a  measure. 

"  This  is  the  little  history  and  imper- 
fect character  of  my  dear  child,  whose 
piety,  virtue,  and  incomparable  endow- 
ments deserve  a  monument  more  durable 
than  brass  and  marble.  Precious  is  the 
memorial  of  the  just.  Much  I  could  en- 
large on  every  period  of  this  hasty  ac- 
count, but  that  I  ease  and  discharge  my 
overcoming  passion  for  the  present,  so 
many  things  worthy  an  excellent  Chris- 
tian and  dutiful  child  crowding  upon  me. 
Never  can  I  say  enough,  oh  dear,  my 
dear  child,  whose  memory  is  so  precious 
to  me  ! 

"  This  dear  child  was  born  at  Wotton, 
in  the  same  house  and  chamber  in  which 


348  MARY    EVELYN. 

I  first  drew  my  breath,  my  wife  having 
retired  to  my  brother  there  in  the  great 
sickness  that  year  upon  the  first  of  that 
month,  and  near  the  very  hour  that  I 
was  born,  upon  the  last,  viz.,  October. 

"  March  16th.  She  was  interred  in 
the  southeast  end  of  the  church  at  Dept- 
ford,  near  her  grandmother,  and  several 
of  my  younger  children  and  relations. 
My  desire  was  she  should  have  been 
carried  and  laid  among  my  own  parents 
and  relations  at  Wotton,  where  1  desire 
to  be  interred  myself,  when  God  shall  call 
me  out  of  this  uncertain  transitory  life, 
but  some  circumstances  did  not  permit  it. 
Our  Vicar,  Dr.  Holden,  preached  her 
funeral  sermon  on  1  Phil.  v.  21  :  '  In  me 
to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain,' 
upon  which  he  made  an  apposite  dis- 
course, as  those  who  heard  it  assured 
me,  (for  grief  suffered  me  not  to  be 
present,)  concluding  with  a  modest  re- 
cital of  her  many  virtues  and  signal  pie- 
ty, so  as  to  draw  both  tears  and  admira- 
tion from  the  hearers.  I  was  not  alto- 
gether unwilling  that  something  of  this 
sort  should  be  spoken,  for  the  edification 
and  encouragement  of  other  young  peo- 
ple. 

"  Divers  noble  persons  honoured  her 
funeral ;  some  in  person,  others  sending 
their  coaches,  of  which  there  were  six 
or  seven  with  six  horses,  viz.,  the  Coun- 
tess of  Sunderland,  Earl  of  Clarendon, 
Lord  Godolphin,  Sir  Stephen  Fox,  Sir 
William  Godolphin,  Viscount  Falkland, 


MART  EVELYN.  349 

and  others.  There  were  distributed 
amongst  her  friends  about  sixty  rings. 

44  Thus  lived,  died,  and  was  buried, 
the  joy  of  my  life,  and  ornament  of  her 
sex  and  of  my  poor  family  !  God  Al- 
mighty of  His  infinite  mercy  grant  me 
the  grace  to  resign  myself  and  all  I  have, 
or  had,  to  His  divine  pleasure  ;  and  in 
His  good  time,  restoring  health  and  com- 
fort to  my  family  ;  4  teach  me  so  to  num- 
ber my  days,  that  I  may  apply  my  heart 
to  wisdom,'  be  prepared  for  my  dissolu- 
tion, and  that  into  the  hands  of  my 
Blessed  Saviour  I  may  recommend  my 
spirit !     Amen  ! 

44  On  looking  into  her  closet,  it  is  in- 
credible what  a  number  of  collections  she 
had  made  from  historians,  poets,  travel- 
lers, &c,  but  above  all,  devotions,  con- 
templations, and  resolutions  on  these 
contemplations,  found  under  her  hand  in 
a  book  most  methodically  disposed  ; 
prayers,  meditations,  and  devotions  on 
particular  occasions,  with  many  pretty 
letters  to  her  confidants,  one  to  a  divine 
(not  named)  to  whom  she  writes  that  he 
would  be  her  ghostly  father,  and  would 
not  despise  her  for  her  many  errors,  and 
the  imperfections  of  her  youth,  but 
beg  of  God  to  give  her  courage  to  ac- 
quaint him  with  all  her  faults,  imploring 
his  assistance  and  spiritual  directions.  I 
well  remember  she  had  often  desired  me 
to  recommend  her  to  such  a  person,  but 
I  did  not  think  fit  to  do  it  as  yet,  seeing 
her  apt  to  be  scrupulous,  and  knowing 


350  MART  EVELYN. 

the  great  innocency  and  integrity  of  her 
life. 

"  It  is  astonishing  how  one  who  had 
acquired  such  substantial  and  practical 
knowledge  in  other  ornamental  parts  of 
education,  especially  music,  both  vocal 
and  instrumental,  in  dancing,  paying  and 
receiving  visits,  and  necessary  conver- 
sation, could  accomplish  half  of  what  she 
has  left ;  but  as  she  never  affected  play 
or  cards,  which  consume  a  world  of  pre- 
cious time,  so  she  was  in  continual  exer- 
cise, which  yet  abated  nothing  of  her 
most  agreeable  conversation.  But  she 
was  a  little  miracle  whilst  she  lived,  and 
so  she  died  !  " 

A  letter  from  her  mother  is  written  in. 
the  same  strain  of  love  and  sorrow. 

"  To  Lady  Tulce. 

"  April,  1685. 
"  How  to  express  the  sorrow  for  part- 
ing with  so  dear  a  child  is  a  difficult 
task.  She  was  welcome  to  me  from  the 
first  moment  God  gave  her,  acceptable 
through  the  whole  course  of  her  life  by 
a  thousand  endearments,  by  the  gifts  of 
nature,  by  acquired  parts,  by  the  tender 
love  she  ever  showed  her  father  and  me  : 
a  thread  of  piety  accompanied  all  her 
actions,  and  now  proves  our  greatest 
consolation.  The  patience,  resignation, 
humility  of  her  carriage  in  so  severe  and 
fatal  a  disease,  discovered  more  than  an 
ordinary  assistance  of  the  Divine  good- 
ness, never  expressing  fear  of  death,  or 


MART    EVELYN.  351 

a  desire  to  live,  but  for  her  friends'  sake. 
The  seventh  day  of  her  illness  she  dis- 
coursed to  me  in  particular  as  calmly  as 
in  health,  desired  to  confess  and  receive 
the  blessed  sacrament,  which  she  per- 
formed with  great  devotion  ;  after  which, 
though  in  her  perfect  senses  to  the  last, 
she  never  signified  the  least  concern  for 
the  world,  prayed  often,  and  resigned 
her  soul.  What  shall  I  say  ?  She  was 
too  great  a  blessing  for  me,  who  never 
deserved  any  thing,  much  less  such  a 
jewel.  I  am  too  well  assured  of  your 
ladyship's  kindness  to  doubt  the  part  you 
take  in  this  loss;  you  have  ever  showed 
yourself  a  friend  in  so  many  instances, 
that  I  presume  upon  your  compassion  ; 
nothing  but  this  just  occasion  could  have 
hindered  me  from  welcoming  you  to 
town,  and  rejoicing  with  the  best  friend 
I  have  in  the  world,  a  friend  by  merit 
and  inclination,  one  I  must  esteem  as  the 
wife  of  so  worthy  a  relation  and  so  sin- 
cere a  friend  as  Sir  Samuel  was  to  me 
and  mine.  What  is  this  world,  when  we 
recall  past  things  !  What  are  the  charms 
that  keep  our  minds  in  suspense  !  with- 
out the  conversation  of  those  we  love, 
what  is  life  worth  !  How  did  I  propose 
happiness  this  summer  in  the  return  of 
your  ladyship  and  my  dear  child,  for  she 
was  absent  almost  all  this  winter  ! 

"  She  had  much  improved  herself  by 
the  remarks  she  had  made  of  the  world 
and  all  its  vanities.  What  shall  I  add  ? 
I  could  ever  speak  of  her  ;  and  might  I 


352  MART    EVELYN. 

be  just  to  her  without  suspicion  of  par- 
tiality, could  tell  you  many  things.  The 
papers  which  are  found  in  her  cabinet 
discover  how  she  profited  by  her  read- 
ing :  such  reflections,  collections  out  of 
Scripture,  confessions,  meditations,  and 
pious  notions,  evidence  her  time  was  not 
spent  in  the  trifling  way  of  most  young 
women.  I  acknowledge,  as  a  Christian, 
I  ought  not  to  murmur,  and  I  should  be 
infinitely  sorry  to  incur  God's  further 
displeasure.  There  are  those  yet  re- 
maining that  challenge  my  care,  and  for 
their  sakes  I  endeavour  to  submit  all  I 
can.  I  thank  my  poor  cousin  a  thousand 
times  for  her  kind  concern,  and  wish  she 
may  live  to  be  the  comfort  you  deserve 
in  her,  that  God  will  continue  the  bless- 
ing to  both,  and  make  you  happy,  which 
is  the  prayer  of  her  who  is 

"Yours  most  affectionately,     M.  E." 

Mrs.  Evelyn  herself  seems  to  have 
been  an  exemplary  wife  and  mother. 
She  was  the  only  child  of  Sir  Richard 
Brown,  and  was  manied  in  the  Chapel 
of  the  Embassy,  at  Paris,  in  1647,  when, 
as  it  appears  by  the  dates  of  her  life, 
she  could  have  been  only  in  her  twelfth 
or  thirteenth  year.  She  remained  at 
Paris  with  her  parents  till,  in  1652,  she 
returned  with  Mr.  Evelyn  to  England. 

In  her  will,  dated  February,  1708,  she 
desired  to  be  buried  in  a  stone  coffin  near 
that  of  her  husband,  "whose  love  and 
friendship  I   was   happy  in   fifty-eight 


MARY  EVELYN.  353 

years  and  nine  months,  but,  by  God's 
providence,  left  a  disconsolate  widow, 
the  27th  of  February,  1705,  in  the  sev- 
enty-first year  of  my  age.  His  care  of 
my  education  was  such  as  might  become 
a  father,  a  lover,  a  friend,  and  husband, 
for  instruction,  tenderness,  affection  and 
fidelity  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life  ; 
which  obligation  I  mention  with  a  grati- 
tude to  his  memory  ever  dear  to  me  ; 
and  I  must  not  omit  to  own  the  sense  I 
have  of  my  parents'  care  and  goodness 
in  placing  me  in  such  worthy  hands." 

Evelyn  makes  mention  in  his  Diary 
of  an  intimate  friend  of  his  own  and  his 
wife,  of  whom  he  seems  to  have  intended 
to  leave  a  fuller  record.  He  speaks  of 
her  frequently  as  maid  of  honour  to 
Charles  II. 's  queen,  under  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Blagge,  and  in  1675  she  married 
Sidney  Godolphin,  celebrated  as  a  states- 
man during  Queen  Anne's  reign.  Three 
years  after  her  marriage,  when  she  was 
in  her  twenty-sixth  year,  she  died  sud- 
denly of  a  fever,  her  husband  having 
only  the  day  before  her  death  informed 
Mr.  Evelyn  of  her  danger,  and  desired 
his  prayers  and  assistance.  In  the  midst 
of  the  dissipations  and  wickedness  of  the 
Court  of  that  period,  she  had  been  as 
much  distinguished  for  her  virtuous  and 
religious  character  as  for  her  beauty,  and 
her  death  was  deeply  lamented  both  by 
her  friends  and  by  the  poor,  to  whom 
she  was  a  constant  benefactor.  She 
sent  <f£70  at  one  time  to  Mr.  Evelyn  to 


354  MARY  EVELYN. 

be  distributed  in  charity,  and  was  in  the 
habit  of  frequently  sending  him  sums  for 
that  purpose.  Religion  was,  he  says, 
the  tie  of  their  friendship  ;  and  during 
the  seven  years  in  which  she  was  maid 
of  honour,  they  often  prayed,  visited  the 
sick  and  miserable,  received,  read,  dis- 
coursed, and  communicated  in  all  holy 
offices  together ;  she  was  most  dear  to 
his  wife,  and  affectionate  to  his  children. 
The  Sunday  before  her  death,  "  she  re- 
ceived the  heavenly  Viaticum,  after  a 
most  solemn  recollection.  She  put  all 
her  domestic  concerns  into  the  exactest 
order,  and  left  a  letter  directed  to  her 
husband,  to  be  opened  in  case  she  died 
in  childbed,  in  which,  with  the  most  pa- 
thetic and  endearing  expressions  of  a 
most  loyal  and  virtuous  wife,  she  begs 
his  kindness  to  her  memory  might  be 
continued  by  his  care  and  esteem  of  those 
she  left  behind,  even  to  her  domestic 
servants,  to  the  meanest  of  which  she 
left  considerable  legacies,  as  well  as  to 
the  poor."  Her  infant,  born  five  days 
before  her  death,  survived  her  ;  and 
when  grown  to  man's  estate,  continued 
the  friendship  with  Mr.  Evelyn's  family. 
Her  husband,  overwhelmed  by  grief, 
confided  to  him  the  care  of  her  funeral, 
which  he  attended  to  Godolphinin  Corn- 
wall ;  and  on  his  return,  looked  over  her 
papers  with  her  husband,  *«  most  of  which 
consisted  of  Prayers,  Meditations,  Ser- 
mon Notes,  Discourses,  and  Collections 
on  several  religious  subjects,  and  many 


ELIZABETH  LADY  GUILDFORD.  355 

of  her  own  happy  composing,  and  so 
pertinently  digested,  as  if  she  had  been 
all  her  life  a  student  in  divinity.  We 
found  a  Diary  of  her  solemn  resolutions, 
tending  to  practical  virtue,  with  letters 
from  select  friends,  all  put  into  exact 
method.  It  astonished  us  to  see  what 
she  had  read  and  written,  her  youth  con- 
sidered." 

ELIZABETH  LADY  GUILDFORD. 

Elizabeth  Lady  Guildford  was 
daughter  to  Fulk  Grevile  Lord  Brook, 
and  first  wife  of  Francis  Lord  Guildford, 
son  to  the  Lord  Keeper  North.  The 
care  of  her  parents  in  her  education  was 
so  well  requited  by  her,  that  one  of  them 
said  very  seriously  in  express  words, 
44  that  through  her  whole  life-time  she 
had  scarce  done  any  thing  to  offend 
them." 

She  had  no  relish  for  any  thing  which 
could  taint  her  imagination,  or  stain  the 
purity  of  her  mind  ;  nor  was  she  disposed 
to  books  of  idle  entertainment;  she  chose 
for  her  diversion  instructive  histories,  but 
gave  her  serious  attention  to  such  books 
as  taught  her  what  was  her  duty,  or 
quickened  her  zeal  to  fulfil  it.  "  For 
this  purpose,  she  very  early  began  to 
use  the  best  arts  of  conversing  with  God, 
and  her  own  soul ;  in  the  splendours  of  a 
court,  (for  such  was  her  father's  house,) 
she  one  day  in  the  week  constantly  spent 
in  the  retirements  of  her  closet ;  and  in 
conformity    to    the    discipline    of    the 


356  ELIZABETH  LADY  GUILDFORD. 

Church,  her  stated  day  was  either  Wed- 
nesday or  Friday,  which  of  them  she 
foresaw  she  might  be  best  permitted  to 
make  her  own,  and  observe  our  Lord's 
direction,  in  fasting  at  a  time  when  she 
should  least  appear  unto  men  to  fast." 
This  account  was  given  by  a  reverend 
person  who  ministered  to  her  family  in 
the  offices  of  religion  ;  and  he  added  the 
remark,  that  he  always  observed  her  on 
those  days,  after  she  had  finished  the 
holy  labours  of  them,  to  be  more  cheerful 
in  humour,  lighter  and  more  agreeable 
in  her  conversation  and  air,  than  she  was 
used  to  be  at  any  other  time. 

She  was  accustomed  in  her  youth  to 
rise  early  every  day,  "  when  the  first 
thing  she  did,  was  devoutly  to  acknow- 
ledge the  mercy  of  God,  who  had  watch- 
ed over  her  while  she  slept ;  thus  sea- 
soning her  mind  betimes  in  the  morning, 
she  seemed  to  have  a  grateful  savour  of 
it  all  the  day  after  ;  and  when  it  could 
be,  without  observation,  she  retired  to 
her  closet  at  noon,  that  no  distinct  period 
of  her  time  might  escape  her  consecra- 
tion of  herself  and  it,  to  God's  honour 
and  glory." 

She  was  diligent  in  her  preparations 
for  the  Lord's  Supper,  which  she  would 
never  omit  but  when  she  thought  she 
had  not  timely  notice  of  the  day  of  its 
administration.  "  The  hunger  and 
thirst  she  had  after  this  heavenly  food 
was  always  more  eager  than  her  appe- 
tite to  her  meals ;    and  at  the  approach 


ELIZABETH  LADY  GUILDFORD.  357 

of  death,  that  desire  remained  when  all 
others  failed,  the  ardour  of  her  spirit 
seeming  to  actuate  her  body  to  bear  its 
share  of  reverence  and  worship  on  that 
occasion." 

She  was  discreet  as  well  as  liberal  in 
her  charity,  and  being  persuaded  that 
there  was  a  giving  which  was  not  chari- 
ty, she  governed  her  charity  as  she  did 
her  whole  behaviour,  with  prudence. 

She  owed  much  to  the  gifts  of  nature, 
though  more  to  those  of  grace  :  for  her 
high  birth,  being  dignified  by  a  holy 
calling,  gave  her  great  advantages  for 
commanding  and  improving  her  time, 
and  set  her  above  the  necessity  or  temp- 
tation of  wasting  it  in  idle  visiting.  Her 
form  was  beautiful,  and  that  being  suit- 
ably animated  by  a  devout  soul,  raised 
her  to  the  height  of  Solomon's  charac- 
ter, for  as  her  lord  was  her  head,  so 
was  she  his  "  crown." 

Her  aversion  to  whatever  was  dishon- 
ourable gave  occasion  to  her  sometimes 
being  considered  stately  in  her  beha- 
viour, for  she  could  not  bear  the  faults 
or  follies  of  the  absent  to  be  brought 
forward  for  the  amusement  of  the  com- 
pany, nor  could  she  hear  any  affront  of- 
fered to  God  or  religion  without  show- 
ing her  resentment  of  it;  such  indigna- 
tion could  not  but  preserve  her  the  es- 
teem of  persons  of  worth,  whatever  she 
might  lose  of  outward  compliment  from 
others. 

She  was  trained  up  for  the  duties  of 


358  ELIZABETH  LADY  GUILDFORD. 

her  life  by  bodily  suffering,  which  she 
endured  most  patiently,  and  died  re- 
gretted by  all  who  knew  her  intimately 
for  her  tenderness  and  affection. 

The  sermon  in  which  this  character 
of  her  is  given,  was  preached  by  Dr. 
Knight,  on  the  day  of  her  funeral,  Nov. 
18th,  1699;  but  another  sermon  to  her 
memory  seems  to  have  been  preached, 
probably  on  the  next  Sunday,  for  Evelyn 
says  in  his  Diary,  "  At  our  chapel  in 
the  evening,"  (he  was  then  in  London,) 
•*  was  a  sermon  preached  by  young  Mr. 
Horneck,  chaplain  to  Lord  Guildford, 
whose  lady's  funeral  had  been  celebra- 
ted magnificently  the  Thursday  before. 
A  panegyric  was  now  pronounced,  de- 
scribing the  extraordinary  piety  and  ex- 
cellently employed  life  of  this  amiable 
young  lady.  She  died  in  childbed  a 
few  days  before,  to  the  excessive  sorrow 
of  her  husband,  who  ordered  the  preach- 
er to  declare,  that  it  was  in  her  exempla- 
ry life,  exhortations  and  persuasion,  that 
he  totally  changed  the  course  of  his  life, 
which  was  before  in  great  danger  of  be- 
ing perverted,  following  the  mode  of  this 
dissolute  age.  Her  devotion,  early  pi- 
ety, charity,  fastings,  economy,  disposi- 
tion of  her  time  in  reading,  praying,  re- 
collections in  her  own  handwriting  of 
what  she  heard  and  read,  and  her  con- 
versation, were  most  exemplary." 


359 

LADY  NEWLAND. 

The  account  of  Lady  Newland  was 
received  from  the  pastor,  "  who  knew 
her  intimately  while  she  was  living,  and 
who  attended  her  through  her  sickness 
to  the  gates  of  eternity." 

"  She  had  a  mind  fairly  prepared  for 
the  eternal  exercise,  and  joy  of  the  saints 
and  angels,  which  is  to  adore  and  praise 
the  Fountain  of  their  being  and  happi- 
ness, as  appeared  by  the  constancy  of 
her  devotions,  both  in  private  and  pub- 
lic ;  in  private,  her  devotion  was  always 
the  first  business  in  the  morning,  near 
two  hours  of  which  she  continually  spent 
in  prayer,  and  reading,  and  meditation  ; 
and  how  late  soever  she  happened  to  be 
detained  at  night,  whether  by  business 
or  innocent  diversion,  she  always  sepa- 
rated at  least  one  hour  from  her  rest,  for 
the  same  divine  and  heavenly  exercises  ; 
after  which  she  constantly  attended  the 
family  devotions,  not  suffering  one  duty 
to  interfere  with  another.  And  then  as 
for  her  attendance  upon  the  public 
prayers  of  the  Church,  it  was  so  re- 
markably constant,  that  whenever  she 
absented  from  them,  one  might  certainly 
conclude,  either  she  was  detained  by 
sickness,  or  some  very  extraordinary  oc- 
casion. Yea,  so  very  exact  and  punc- 
tual was  she  in  this  matter,  that  she  al- 
ways took  care,  so  to  contrive  her  busi- 
ness, and  diversion,  as  that  they  might 
comport  with  her  attendance  on  the  pub- 


360  LADY    NEWLAND. 

lie  service  ;  so  as  that  whenever  it  did  so 
happen,  as  that  she  could  not  be  pres- 
ent, either  morning  or  evening,  in  her 
own  parish  church,  she  might  be  sure 
not  to  miss  of  it  in  some  other.  And  as 
for  the  holy  sacrament,  that  best  repast 
and  banquet  of  devout  souls,  she  was  a 
constant  guest  at  it  once  a  month  at 
least,  and  for  the  most  part  oftener,  as 
she  found  opportunity  ;  her  hunger  and 
thirst  after  that  righteousness,  therein 
sealed  and  conveyed,  being  too  eager  to 
be  satisfied  with  the  common  stint  of 
twice  or  thrice  a  year's  participation 
ofit. 

Thus  did  she  spend  the  greater  part 
of  her  life  in  heaven,  and  this  in  a  great 
plenty  of  worldly  enjoyments.  And  this 
severe  and  abstracted  kind  of  life  which 
she  led,  was  so  far  from  producing  mo- 
roseness,  pride,  or  censoriousness,  that 
her  conversation  was  always  free  and 
open,  "  carrying  such  an  amiable  air 
about  it  as  sufficiently  proved  the  excel- 
lency of  the  temper  from  whence  it  did 
proceed."  After  fulfilling  her  several 
duties  as  a  daughter,  wife,  mother, 
friend,  and  mistress,  she  died  in  1690, 
and  was  buried  in  the  church  of  Allhal- 
lows,  Barking,  London.  Of  the  circum- 
stances of  her  life  no  particulars  are 
given. 


361 

LADY  CHOLMONDELEY. 

Lady  Cholmondeley  deserves  a 
place  among  the  religious  ladies  of  her 
time,  according  to  the  character  given  of 
her  by  Samuel  Catherall  in  the  sermon 
preached  at  her  funeral.  He  describes 
her  as  having  fulfilled  all  the  duties  of 
her  station  in  life,  whether  in  her  single, 
married,  or  widowed  state.  "  A  person 
of  an  exact  life  and  conversation,  without 
the  affectation  of  Puritanical  precise- 
ness,  or  rigid  moroseness,  being  ever 
easy  in  herself,  and  never  troublesome 
to  others  ;  and  yet  putting  on  always  so 
much  of  religious  gravity  in  her  conver- 
sation, as  to  encourage  virtue,  and  dis- 
countenance vice." 

Being  gentle  and  obliging,  and  a  great 
enemy  to  tattle  and  evil  speaking,  she 
was  generally  spoken  of  as  the  happy 
person  who  had  not  one  enemy. 

In  her  religious  course  she  was  strict- 
ly obedient  to  the  rules  of  the  Church, 
much  given  to  fasting,  prayer,  and  study 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  a  monthly  com- 
municant at  the  table  of  the  Lord,  that 
she  might  there  receive  the  bread  of 
life  and  cup  of  salvation,  and  have  sealed 
to  her  the  mysteries  of  redemption 
through  her  Saviour. 

In  other  respects  her  life  presents  a 
picture  such  as  has  repeatedly  been  pre- 
sented before,  of  devotional  acts  in  her 
family,  and  charitable  acts  to  the  needy. 
When  her  death  approached,  she  made, 


362       KATHARINE  LADY  NEVILLE. 

preparations  for  it,  and  continued  twice 
a  day  to  perform  her  devotions  with  her 
whole  family  out  of  the  public  prayers 
of  the  Church,  and  much  more  frequent- 
ly out  of  other  helps  to  devotion,  whilst 
she  received  the  holy  communion  still 
oftener  than  before.  When  from  keep- 
ing her  room  she  was  reduced  to  keep 
her  bed,  the  same  devotional  course  was 
continued,  and  this  religious  order  of  do- 
ing all  things  fit  to  be  done,  no  doubt 
preserved  in  her  the  calmness  and  pa- 
tience which  she  showed  throughout  her 
illness,  so  that  she  was  able  to  undergo 
her  last  pains  and  agonies  with  more 
composure  than  her  relations  and  others 
who  saw  her  suffer  them. 

Her  faculties  being  clear  to  the  last, 
she  spent  the  small  remainder  of  her 
strength  in  advising  those  around  her  to 
prepare  for  their  latter  end ;  and  whilst 
she  heard  them  praying  passionately  for 
her,  she  as  devoutly  prayed  for  herself, 
"  still  crying  out  in  the  language  of  her 
holy  mother,  '  Lord,  have  mercy  upon 
me,  Christ  have  mercy  upon  me  ;'  till  at 
last  she  recommended  her  spirit  into  His 
hands,  that  undoubtedly  received  it  into 
mercy." 

She  died  in  February,  1691,  and  was 
buried  at  Malpas,  in  Cheshire. 

KATHARINE    LADY    NEVILLE. 

Katharine,  daughter  of  Sir  Ar- 
thur Ingram,  of  Temple  Newsam  in 


KATHARINE    LADY    NEVILLE.       363 

Yorkshire,  lost  early  in  life  her  mother, 
who  was  of  a  family  faithful  to  the 
Church  of  England,  and  was  then  edu- 
cated by  an  aunt,  a  rigid  Independent ; 
but  though  daily  solicited,  she  would 
never  join  in  communion  with  them,  and 
persevered  to  her  dying  day  in  fidelity 
to  her  Church. 

She  became  afterwards  the  wife  of 
Sir  Christopher  Neville,  whom  she  sur- 
vived. 

Her  chaplain,  Mr.  Malton,  bears  wit- 
ness to  the  constancy  of  her  attendance 
upon  the  services  of  the  Church,  so  that 
when  she  was  disabled  from  walking, 
she  was  carried  in  a  chair  to  the  church, 
and  supported  by  two  persons  to  her 
seat.  And  when  deprived  of  the  use  of 
one  side,  she  constantly  had  the  service 
of  the  Church  read  at  home,  and  usually 
a  repetition  of  the  sermon. 

kt  If  she  was  interrupted  in  her  ordi- 
nary course  of  meditation  and  prayer, 
yet  she  never  would  fail  to  finish  her  pi- 
ous course,  however  unseasonable  and 
late,  even  to  the  prejudice  of  her  bodily 
health.  She  was  a  constant  attendant  at 
the  Lord's  table,  and  received  the  holy 
communion  about  two  months  before  her 
death,  when  she  apprehended  a  sudden 
change.  Her  illness  caused  her  the  se- 
verest pain,  which  she  bore  without  a 
murmur,  those  sufferings  never  moving 
her  to  repine,  which  caused  the  lookers- 
on  to  feel  pity  and  even  horror." 

"  Every  morning  and  evening  she  had 
1  2 


364      KATHARINE   LADY   NEVILLE. 

the  service  of  the  Church  in  her  family, 
where  she  required  all  her  servants  to 
attend,  in  time  for  the  confession.  On 
the  Lord's  day  she  assembled  them  be- 
fore the  morning  service  to  return  thanks 
for  all  the  mercies  they  had  received, 
and  to  recommend  themselves  to  the 
blessed  influence  and  protection  of  God's 
Holy  Spirit  for  the  remainder  of  the 
day." 

"  She  ever  wrote  down  the  sermon, 
and  made  a  repetition  of  it  to  her  family, 
and  often  to  her  poor  neighbours,  who 
could  not  attend  the  public  service 
through  sickness  or  other  bodily  infirmi- 
ties. During  the  latter  part  of  the  Lord's 
day,  she  used  to  hear  her  servants  read 
and  repeat  the  Catechism,  and  the  day 
was  ended  by  the  Prayers  of  the  Church, 
and  a  psalm  of  thanksgiving." 

The  week  before  the  administration  of 
the  Sacrament  of  our  Lord's  Body  and 
Blood,  was  spent  by  her  in  stricter  de- 
votion with  her  family. 

"  She  literally  answered  the  Apos- 
tle's character  of  being  poor  enough  to 
herself,  yet  making  many  rich  ;  to  my 
certain  knowledge,"  says  her  chaplain, 
11  always  sparing  and  mean  in  her  own 
dress,  that  so  she  might  cover  their  na- 
kedness. She  knew  no  other  considera- 
ble use  of  an  estate  than  to  be  hospita- 
ble, entertain  her  friends  generously, 
and  to  dispense  and  give  liberally  to 
the  poor.  It  was  the  wonder  of  her 
acquaintance    to   consider    whence    she 


BARBARA  LADY  LONGUEVILLE.    365 

had  so  great  a  fund,  ever  entertaining  so 
many  visitors,  I  had  almost  said  fami- 
lies, and  daily  expending  so  much  in 
alms." 

44  Thus  conscientiously  did  she  per- 
form her  duty  to  God  and  man  ;  she  was 
an  ornament  and  glory  to  the  religion 
she  professed,  yet  always  lowly  in  her 
own  eyes,  and  departed  this  life  full  of 
years  and  full  of  honour."  She  died  in 
April,  1715,  and  was  buried  at  Anburgh, 
in  Lincolnshire. 

BARBARA  LADY  LONGUEVILLE. 

Barbara,  daughter  to  John  Talbot, 
Esq.,  of  Laycock,  in  Wiltshire,  was 
married  to  Henry  Yelverton,  Lord  Grey 
of  Buthyn,  created  Viscount  Longue- 
ville  in  1690.  His  father,  Sir  Henry 
Yelverton,  was  a  faithful  son  of  the  En- 
glish Church  during  its  calamities,  and 
received  Dr.  Morton,  the  Bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, into  his  house,  where  he  entertain- 
ed him  with  the  tenderness  and  duty  of 
a  son,  till  his  death  on  St.  Matthew's 
Day,  in  1659.  Sir  Henry  married  Su- 
san, Baroness  Grey  of  Ruthyn,  who 
brought  this  title  into  the  family.  Their 
6on,  Henry  Lord  Longueville,  died  in 
1703,  in  the  fortieth  year  of  his  age,  and 
left  two  sons  and  five  daughters  in  the 
charge  of  his  wife  Barbara. 

Her  picture  is  preserved  among  the 

celebrated  beauties  of  Charles  II. 's  court, 

in  the  collection  at  Petworth  House  ;  but 

upon   her   husband's  death  she    retired 

1  3 


366  MRS.   SUSANNA  HOPTON. 

from  the  world,  and  lived  to  the  age  of 
ninety-eight  as  a  widow. 

Though  her  husband  bore  the  spurs  at 
•the  coronation  of  William  and  Mary, 
as  well  as  of  James  II.,  she  was  devoted 
to  the  Stuart  family,  and  would  some- 
times say  that  she  would  have  to  inter- 
cede for  her  descendants  when  the  royal 
family  should  be  restored.  She  was 
much  opposed  to  investing  money  in  the 
funds,  and  would  never  trust  to  their 
security. 

She  was  a  friend  of  Bishop  Ken's,  who 
came  to  visit  her  after  her  husband's 
death,  when  it  is  said  that  he  asked  to 
see  her  infant,  adding,  "  It  always  is 
delightful  to  see  a  Christian  who  has 
never  willingly  sinned  against  God." 

To  the  end  of  her  life  she  had  a  cus- 
tom of  making  her  maid  read  to  her  the 
psalms  and  lessons  of  the  day.  In  the 
course  of  these,  she  usually  made  re- 
marks upon  what  was  read.  One  day 
her  maid  was  surprised  by  her  unusual 
silence,  especially  towards  the  end  of 
the  reading.  She  ceased,  but  her  mis- 
tress was  still  silent,  when  it  was  found 
that  Lady  Longueville  had  breathed 
her  last  before  the  second  lesson  was 
finished. 

MRS.  SUSANNA  HOPTON. 
This  lady  was  descended    from    the 
ancient  family  of  the  Harveys  in  Staf- 
fordshire ;    she  was  born  in   1627,  and 
was    married    to   Richard    Hopton,    of 


MRS.    SUSANNA  HOPTON.  367 

Kington,  in  Herefordshire,  by  whose 
care  she  was  recalled  to  the  Church  of 
her  baptism.  During  the  anarchy  of 
the  kingdom,  while  she  was  yet  young, 
she  had  been  drawn  over  to  the  Roman 
Church  by  Father  Tuberville,  but  be- 
ing induced  by  her  husband  to  consult 
some  of  the  most  learned  divines  of  the 
age,  and  to  read  the  best  treatises  on 
both  sides  of  the  question  with  which 
English  writers  could  supply  her,  she 
returned  to  her  own  Church,  and  con- 
tinued to  be  a  sincere  and  faithful  mem- 
ber of  it.  She  is  said  to  have  been  "  a 
woman  of  an  excellent  understanding, 
fine  wit,  and  solid  judgment,"  and  by 
her  own  pains  she  repaired  the  neglect 
of  her  education,  though  she  always 
herself  lamented  its  incompleteness. 

She  had  a  large  collection  of  English 
books  of  devotion,  and  she  herself  com- 
posed some  under  the  title  of  "  Daily 
Devotions,  consisting  of  Thanksgivings, 
Confessions,  and  Prayers,  by  an  humble 
Penitent."  These  were  for  some  time 
supposed  to  be  written  by  the  same  di- 
vine who  wrote  "  The  Sacrifice  of  a  De- 
vout Christian,"  added  to  them  in  a  later 
edition,  but  Dr.  Hickes  ascertained  by 
Mrs.  Hopton's  own  confession,  that  they 
were  written  by  her. 

She  wrote  likewise  an  "  Hexameron, 
or  Meditations  on  the  Six  Days  of  the 
Creation  ;  Meditations  and  Devotions  on 
the  Li!e  of  Christ." 

Ai  The  subject  was  treated  by  this  good 
1  4 


368  MRS.   SUSANNA  HOPTON. 

lady,  not  in  the  way  of  commentary  or 
explication,  but  rather  of  recital  and  ad- 
miration, and  such  a  thankful  elevation 
of  the  heart  to  God,  as  must  leave  all 
those  without  excuse,  who  are  not  here- 
by excited  to  fear,  love,  honour,  obey* 
and  praise  Him  for  His  unspeakable 
goodness  from  day  to  day."  Here  she 
proceeds  step  by  step,  through  all  the 
works  of  Creation,  to  remind  us  of  the 
blessings  continually  showered  down 
upon  us.  Such  is  the  account  given  of 
the  work  by  Dr.  Spinckes  in  his  Pre- 
face to  it :  and  he  adds,  "  Let  but  the 
devout  Christian  seriously  observe  how 
all  the  other  works  of  the  Lord  '  praise 
Him,  and  magnify  Him  for  ever,'  how 
*  the  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God* 
and  the  firmament  shows  His  handi- 
work, the  earth  also,  with  all  the  works 
that,  are  therein  ;'  and  how  these  all  con- 
stantly obey  His  commands,  and  answer 
the  ends  of  their  creation;  and  he  must 
inevitably  blush,  and  be  heartily  ashamed 
to  think  that  mankind,  the  lord  of  all, 
should  be  the  only  ungovernable  part  of 
all  this  visible  world.'' 

From  the  works  of  Creation  she  pro- 
ceeded in  the  latter  part  of  these  medi- 
tations to  the  mercies  of  Redemption,  so 
as  to  raise  the  mind  of  the  Christian  to 
the  love  of  our  Blessed  Lord,  by  the 
contemplation  of  all  that  he  has  done  for 
our  happiness. 

She  also  reformed  the  "  Devotions  in 
the   Ancient  way    of    Offices,"   which 


MRS.   SUSANNA  HOPTON.  369 

were  composed  by  a  member  of  the  Ro- 
mish Church  ;  she  spent  great  pains  in 
correcting  whatever  parts  of  these  offices 
rendered  them  unfit  for  the  use  of  mem- 
bers of  the  Church  of  England,  and  then 
sent  them  to  Dr.  Hickes,  who  after  fur- 
ther correction  and  improvement,  pub- 
lished them.  After  recommending  them 
to  the  use  of  members  of  the  English 
Church,  he  proceeds  thus :  "  But  all 
this  while  I  have  been  speaking  of  the 
book,  I  had  almost  forgot  the  devout  re- 
former of  it,  who  is  one  that  hath  a 
mighty  genius  for  divinity,  and  though 
never  bred  in  scholastic  education,  yet 
by  conversation  with  learned  clergymen, 
hath  attained  to  a  skill  in  that  sacred 
science  not  much  inferior  to  that  of  the 
best  divines.  It  is  one,  who  hath  al- 
ready given  to  the  world  one  book  of 
devotion,  which  hath  been  well  received 
in  four  or  five  editions,  and  will  leave  it 
another,  for  which  posterity  will  bless 
the  author's  name  ;  one,  whose  house  is 
a  temple,  and  whose  family  is  a  church 
or  religious  society,  and  whose  hands 
are  daily  lifted  up  unto  heaven,  with 
alms  as  well  as  prayers  ;  one  who  reli- 
giously observes  all  the  orders  of  the 
Church  that  concern  the  people,  and 
wishes  that  those  were  better  observed 
which  concern  the  priests  ;  one  who 
more  particularly  keeps  with  most  ex- 
act observance  all  the  fasts  and  festivals 
of  the  Church,  and  for  the  great  ends  for 
winch  they  are  enjoined  ;  in  a  word,  one 
1  5 


570  MRS.   SUSANNA  HOPTON. 

who  is  a  great  example  of  Christian  pie- 
ty, and  a  singular  ornament  to  our  Com- 
tnunion  in  this  degenerate  age ;  and 
among  the  many  and  most  serious  good 
wishes  I  have  for  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, this  is,  and  always  shall  be  one, 
that  all  her  sons  and  daughters  were 
Such." 

In  a  later  edition  he  adds,  that  he  is 
ho  longer  obliged  to  silence  "  concerning 
the  first  reformer  of  these  devotions;  of 
whom  the  world  has  now  been  already 
by  me  made  acquainted,  that  it  was  a 
Very  devout  gentlewoman  of  quality, 
lately  deceased,  who  in  her  youth  had 
been  drawn  away  from  tbe  Church  of 
England  to  that  of  Rome  :  but  returned 
back  to  her  first  fold  upon  a  fuller  and 
more  accurate  review  of  the  controversy 
betwixt  the  two  Churches  ;  whereof  a 
Sufficient  account  is  to  be  found  in  a  let- 
ter of  hers  to  Father  Tnbcrville."  Thia 
letter  was  included  by  Dr.  Hickes  in  a 
fcollection  which  he  made  upon  the  sub- 
ject, and  in  his  Preface  to  it  he  made 
honourable  mention:  of  the  writer. 

The  book  of  devotions  contains  offices 
for  the  days  of  the  week,  hours  of  the 
day,  seasons  and  festivals  of  the  year, 
and  also  for  special  occasions  of  prayer, 
humiliation,  or  thanksgiving ;  and  as 
she  thus  pointed  out  a  course  of  regular 
devotion,  so  "she  kept  it  up  not  only  in 
herself,  but  in  her  family ;  not  only  on 
the  Lord's  day,  but  throughout  the 
whole  week,   setting   apart    five   times 


MRS.    SUSANNA  HOPTON.  371 

every  day  for  religious  worship;  from 
which  she  would  not  suffer  hersell  to  be 
diverted,  by  any  business  that  was  not 
very  extraordinary.  Even  in  her  old 
age,  and  the  cold  winter  season,  she 
would  be  up,  and  in  the  closet  at  her 
motins,  by  four  of  the  clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, from  which  custom  she  was  for  a 
long  time  not  to  be  discouraged,  either 
by  the  effects  of  her  declining  age,  or  by 
the  extremity  of  the  weather.  So  that 
she  might  truly  say  with  the  royal 
Psalmist,  »  Mine  eyes  prevent  the  night 
watches,  that  I  may  be  occupied  in  Thy 
words.'  Though  some  time  before  she 
died,  she  was  prevailed  with  to  forbear 
till  five  or  six.  She  neither  indulged 
herself  in  diet  nor  sleep,  so  much  as  her 
years  required,  but  contented  herself 
with  less  in  both  these  respects,  than 
those  about  her  judged  convenient  for 
her.  So  much  was  she  above  gratifying 
the  flesh,  and  so  desirous  not  to  fall  short 
of  any  mortification  she  apprehended 
her  religion  to  have  required  of  her. 

44  She  was  a  constant  observer  of  not 
only  the  feasts,  but  fasts  of  the  Church 
likewise,  and  was  much  scandalized  at 
the  generality  of  those  who  profess 
themselves  members  of  the  Church  of 
England,  for  showing  no  more  regard  to 
such  days." 

44  She  well  remembered  our  blessed 

Saviour's  infinite  love,  not  only  in  dying 

for  us  miserable  sinners,  but  moreover, 

in  instituting   the    Holy   Eucharist,   in 

1  6 


372  MRS.   SUSANNA  HOPTON. 

memory  of  His  Body  broken,  and  His 
Blood  poured  forth  for  our  redemption, 
and  not  only  readily  embraced  all  oppor- 
tunities of  attending  upon  this  sacred 
ordinance,  but  did  it  with  the  greatest 
solemnity  and  reverence.  And  well 
knowing  what  especial  advantages  the 
devout  Christian  receives  from  so  near 
approach  to  his  blessed  Saviour,  she 
looked  upon  it,  and  longed  after  it,  as  a 
foretaste  of  that  heavenly  banquet, 
whereof  she  promised  herself  to  be  made 
partaker,  when  she  should  be  admitted 
to  an  immediate  enjoyment  of  Him.  It 
was  the  delight  of  her  soul  to  commem- 
orate His  love,  and  bless  Him  for  His 
goodness,  though  in  the  humblest  man- 
ner as  she  could." 

"  As  her  prayers,  so  did  her  alms 
likewise  ascend  up  to  heaven,  to  pre- 
pare her  a  place  there,  that  when  her 
prayers  here  should  cease,  she  might  be 
admitted  to  sound  forth  eternal  hallelu- 
jahs, with  the  blessed  choir  of  saints  and 
angels.  For  she  was  not  sparing  in 
these  ;  but  as  she  had  a  fortune  to  do  it, 
so  she  took  care  to  dispense  them  boun- 
tifully^ though  sometimes  with  affected 
secrecy,  whilst  she  lived,  and  was  lib- 
erally munificent  whon  she  died.  It 
would  have  grieved  one  to  hear  the  sad 
lamentations  that  were  amongst  her 
neighbours  at  Kington,  not  long  before 
her  death,  by  reason  of  her  removal 
from  thence  to  Hereford,  where  some 
time  after  she  ended  her  days,  after  she 


MRS.  SUSANNA  HOPTON.  373 

had  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  being  eighty- 
one  years  old  and  upwards.  Which 
time  she  had  improved  to  the  best  pur- 
poses, in  serving  God,  and  doing  good  in 
her  generation.  Nor  was  her  bounty 
confined  to  that  neighbourhood,  though 
most  remarkable  there  ;  for  it  extended 
to  the  poor  and  needy  in  far  distant 
places,  where  she  saw  occasion  ;  as  ap- 
pears from  several  letters  of  thanks,  that 
were  found  among  her  papers. 

"  Another  good  quality  observable  in 
her  was,  that  she  was  of  a  very  grateful 
temper,  insomuch,  that  when  she  had 
any  way  received  an  obligation,  she  was 
observed  to  be  uneasy  till  she  had  ex- 
pressed her  sense  of  it,  by  a  suitable  re- 
turn, and  usually  to  the  advantage  of 
such  as  had  obliged  her." 

Such  is  the  account  of  Mrs.  Hopton's 
widowhood  given  by  Dr.  Spinckes  ;  her 
husband,  who  was  one  of  the  judges  in 
Charles  the  Second  and  James  the  Se- 
cond's reigns,  died  in  1690,  and  left  her 
without  children,  in  very  plentiful  cir- 
cumstances. 

As  Mr.  Hopton  had  been  a  great 
benefactor  to  the  clergy,  and  had  re- 
stored to  the  Church  the  large  impro- 
priation of  Bishop's  Frome,  in  Hereford- 
shire, so  was  his  widow  a  benefactress 
to  them,  ever  dutiful  to  the  Church  and 
its  orthodox  sons,  particularly  to  those  of 
the  clergy  who  were  reduced  by  depri- 
vation to  poverty  ;  to  whom  she  left  in 
trust  <f£700. 

1  7 


374  MRS.   SUSANNA  HOPTOW. 

A  friend  who  knew  her  thoroughly, 
described  her  discourse  "  upon  serious 
matters  as  strong,  eloquent,  and  nervous  ; 
upon  pleasant  subjects,  witty  and  face- 
tious ;  and  when  it  required  an  edge, 
was  as  sharp  as  a  razor.  For  she  knew 
exactly  well  what  was  proper  to  be  said 
upon  any  occasion,  or  to  any  company. 
She  was  a  rare  manager  and  economist, 
and  set  down  every  day  what  she  re- 
ceived in,  and  paid  out ;  and  by  such 
care  was  enabled  to  be  charitable  to  the 
poor  in  the  highest  degree,  and  hospita- 
ble to  her  friends  in  a  generous  man- 
ner." She  had  a  good  collection  of 
books  ;  and  the  margins  of  most  of  them 
filled  with  her  manuscript  notes,  amongst 
which  were  more  than  twenty  volumes, 
by  Romish  authors,  left  by  her  to  Dr. 
Hickes.  She  fell  sick  of  a  very  sharp 
fever,  about  the  end  of  June,  1709, 
which  she  bore  with  uncommon  courage, 
patience  and  resignation.  By  her  will, 
dated  July,  1708,  she  commended  "her 
soul  to  Almighty  God,  and  her  body  to 
be  buried  near  her  husband,  in  the  parish 
church  of  Bishop's  Frome,  Hereford- 
shire, "  according  to  the  order  of  the 
Church  of  England  :  in  the  Catholic 
Communion  of  which  Church  I  die  ;  be- 
lieving she  holds  the  true  Catholic  Faith 
according  to  the  Scriptures,  and  Apos- 
tolical Traditions  explaining  them  ;  the 
three  Creeds  expressing  the  articles  of 
Faith,  and  the  first  four  General  Coun- 
cils explaining  them." 


ANNE  BAYNARD.  375 

She  died  on  July  12th,  and  was  bu- 
ried according  to  her  appointment,  and 
an  inscription  composed  to  her  memory 
fcy  Dr.  Hickes. 

ANNE  BAYNARD. 

Anne  Bavnard  was  born  at  Pres- 
ton, in  Lancashire,  and  was  the  only 
child  of  Dr.  Edward  Baynard,  Fellow  of 
the  College  of  Physicians.  Her  char- 
acter was  given  by  Collier  in  his  great 
Historical  Dictionary  %  where  he  derives 
her  descent  from  Ralph  Baynard,  who 
came  into  England  with  the  Conqueror, 
and  received  eighty-four  lordships  for 
his  courage  at  the  battle  of  Hastings, 
but  of  whom  Mr.  Collier  says,  that  it 
May  be  doubted  whether  the  first  Ralph 
added  so  much  distinction  to  the  family 
as  the  last  Anne. 

His  character  of  her  is  as  follows  : 
**  Anne  Baynard,  for  her  prudence,  pie- 
ty, and  learning,  deserves  to  have  her 
memory  perpetuated  ;  being  not  only 
skilled  in  the  learned  languages,  but  in 
all  manner  of  learning  and  philosophy, 
without  vanity  or  affectation.  Her 
words  were  few,  well  chosen  and  ex- 
pressive. She  was  seldom  seen  to  smile, 
being  rather  of  a  reserved  and  stoical 
disposition  ;  which  sect  of  philosophers 
she  most  affected ;  their  doctrine  (in 
most  parts)  seeming  agreeable  to  her 
natural  temper  ;  for  she  never  read,  or 
spoke  of  them,  but  with  a  sort  of  delight 
and  pleasingness  in  her  countenance ; 
1  8 


376  ANNE    BATNARD. 

she  had  a  great  contempt  of  the  world, 
especially  of  the  finery  and  gayety  of 
life  ;  she  had  a  great  regard  and  venera- 
tion for  the  sacred  name  of  God,  and 
made  it  the  whole  business  of  her  life  to 
promote  His  honour  and  glory  ;  and  the 
great  end  of  her  study  was,  to  encounter 
atheists  and  libertines,  as  may  be  seen 
in  some  severe  satires  written  in  the 
Latin  tongue,  in  which  language  she  had 
great  readiness  and  fluency  of  expression. 

Mr.  Prude,  the  minister  of  her  parish, 
in  his  funeral  sermon,  enlarges  more 
fully  on  these  points. 

"As  for  learning,  whether  it  be  to 
know  and  understand  natural  causes  and 
events,  to  know  the  courses  of  the  sun, 
moon,  and  stars  ;  the  qualities  of  herbs 
and  plants  ;  to  be  acquainted  with  the 
demonstrable  verities  of  the  mathemat- 
ics; the  study  of  philosophy  ;  the  writ- 
ings of  the  ancients,  and  that  in  their 
own  proper  language,  without  the  help 
of  an  interpreter  ;  these  things  she  was 
not  only  conversant  in,  but  mistress  of. 
She  had  from  her  infancy  been  trained 
up  in  the  knowledge  of  them,  and  had 
made  a  great  progress  therein  ;  and  even 
in  her  green  years,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
three,  was  arrived  to  the  knowledge  of  a 
bearded  philosopher." 

It  appears  that  her  parents,  "  perceiv- 
ing her  elegant  and  sprightly  genius, 
joined  with  a  natural  propensity  to  learn- 
ing, gave  her  a  very  liberal  education 
which  she  improved  to  the  utmost. 


ANNE    BAYNARD.  377 

**  She  took  great  pains  to  perfect  her 
knowledge  in  the  Greek  tongue,  that  she 
might  read  St.  Chrysostom  in  his  own 
language.  She  was  very  conversant  in 
the  Greek  Testament ;  and  not  satisfied 
with  reading  only,  she  set  herself  to  the 
composing  oT  many  things  in  the  Latin 
tongue,  from  which  it  appeared  that  she 
had  a  beauty  in  her  style  as  well  as  in 
her  countenance.  Her  strong  memory 
and  exalted  mind  made  her  covet  more 
and  more  knowledge,  and  in  this  particu- 
lar alone  she  would  often  say,  *  It  was  a 
sin  to  be  contented  with  but  a  little.' 

*■  But  after  all  this,  with  what  pro- 
found humility,  with  what  prostration  of 
mind  would  she  cry  out  with  St.  Paul, 
*  I  count  all  things  but  loss,  for  the  ex- 
cellency of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Je- 
sus my  Lord.' 

M  In  which  study  she  was  no  small 
proficient,  and  had  often  by  her  nervous 
arguments,  and  by  the  grace  of  God 
which  was  in  her,  sent  to  silence  some 
of  those  bold  men  who  have  attempted, 
even  in  these  days,  to  revive  that  old 
and  baffled  heresy  of  Socinus,  and  she 
much  lamented  that  such  opinions  should 
gain  any  footing  or  entertainment  among 
Christians. 

M  I  have  heard  her  say,"  (Mr.  Prude 
continues,)  "that  human  learning  was 
worth  nothing,  unless  it  leads  to  the 
knowledge  of  Christ  revealed  in  the 
Gospel  as  her  only  Saviour.  *  What 
availeth  Solomon's  skill,'  she  would  ask, 
1  9 


378  ANNE    BATNARP. 

1  in  all  the  works  of  nature,  if  by  them 
we  be  not  brought  to  see  the  God  of  na- 
ture ?  What  is  it  to  be  so  skilful  in 
astronomy,  as  that  by  the  motions  of  the 
heavens  we  can  foretell  things  here  be- 
low, if  we  never  study  by  our  holy 
practices  to  come  thither  ?  What  is  it 
to  be  so  skilful  in  arithmetic,  as  that  we 
can  divide  and  subdivide  to  the  smallest 
fractions  ?  If  (as  God  hath  revealed 
unto  us  in  His  Holy  Word)  we  do  not 
so  learn  to  number  our  days  that  we  may 
apply  our  hearts  unto  wisdom  ?' 

"  What  is  it  for  a  physician  to  be 
skilful  in  foreseeing  and  preventing  the 
diseases  of  the  body,  if  (as  God  hath  re- 
vealed unto  him)  he  knoweth  net  where 
to  find  that  Balm  of  Gileadr  the  wine 
and  oil  of  that  Samaritan,  the  Lord  Je- 
sus, to  pour  into  the  festered  wounds  of 
his  own  soul  and  conscience  ?" 

"  She  was  a  true  and  constant  Church- 
woman,  a  great  asserter  and  defenderT 
both  of  the  order  and  economy  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  pitied  the 
hreaches  and  schisms,  which  dissensions 
had  made  in  the  pure  and  spotless  reli- 
gion of  the  most  Holy  Jesus.  She  would 
often  say,  that  pride  and  self-conceit 
were  the  two  main  pillars  on  which  that 
fabric  of  dissension  stood,  and  therefore 
wise  and  considerate  persons  would 
easily  conclude  it  to  be  built  upon  a 
weak  and  sandy  foundation. 

"  And  as  to  heresy,  so  she  was  a  pro- 
fessed enemy  to  atheism  and  profane- 


ANNE    BAYNARIK  379 

ness,  and  held  the  sacred  name  of  God 
in  such  reverence,  that  she  always  either 
bowed  or  stood  up,  when  any  occasional 
discourse  offered  itself  that  way. 

44  She  was  a  constant  frequenter  of  the 
Word  and  Sacrament ;  and  the  prayers 
of  the  Church,  which  call  for  our  daily 
attendance,  she  never  missed,  unless 
hindered  by  some  bodily  infirmity,  to 
which  of  late  she  had  been  too  subject. 

M  Her  private  piety  and  devotion  was 
no  less,  and  in  her  chamber  she  '  com- 
muned with  her  own  heart,'  privately 
examining  the  state  of  her  soul,  that  she 
might  4  stand  in  awe  and  sin  not.' 

44  She  caught  at  all  opportunities  of 
retirement  that  she  might  have  the  bet- 
ter intercourse  with  heaven,  and  prepare 
for  death  by  daily  dying  in  holy  soli- 
tude. 

44  She  spent  no  time  in  dressing  or 
adorning  herself,  and  out  of  the  allow- 
ance given  her  she  laid  aside  a  part  for 
charitable  and  pious  uses. 

44  Her  constitution  was  infirm  ;  and 
two  years  before  her  death  she  was 
walking  alone  in  the  churchyard,  where 
she  was  afterwards  buried,  when  resting 
herself  in  the  porch,  a  sudden  thought 
broke  in  upon  her  mind,  that  in  a  short 
time  she  should  die  and  be  buried  there, 
which,  far  from  casting  any  gloom  upon 
her  spirits,  rather  made  her  in  love  with 
the  place,  so  that  ever  after  she  liked  to 
retire  there,  and  chose  it  for  her  burial 
place. 


OOU  ANNE    BATNARD. 

**  Her  Christian  love  for  the  souls  of 
men  made  her  importunate  in  her  inter- 
cessions for  the  good  of  the  world,  and 
gave  her  courage  and  discretion  above 
her  years  or  sex,  to  benefit  the  souls  of 
those  she  conversed  with,  by  friendly 
reproof,  good  counsel,  or  learned  and 
pious  discourse. 

On  her  deathbed  she  desired  Mr. 
Prude  to  exhort  all  y  >ung  people  to  the 
study  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  ;  and 
then  just  before  her  departure  she  spoke 
these  words  upon  the  subject,  which 
were,  he  says,  faithfully  penned  down, 
and  delivered  into  his  hands. 

»•  I  desire  rhat  all  young  people  may 
be  exhorted  to  the  practice  of  virtue,  and 
to  increase  their  knowledge  by  the  study 
of  philosophy,  and  more  especially  to 
read  the  great  book  of  nature,  wherein 
they  may  see  the  wisdom  and  power  of 
the  Great  Creator,  in  the  order  of  the 
universe,  and  in  the  production  of  all 
things.  It  will  fix  in  their  minds  a  love 
to  so  much  perfection,  frame  a  divine 
idea,  and  an  awful  regard  of  God,  which 
will  heighten  devotion,  and  lower  the 
spirit  of  pride,  and  give  a  habit  and  dis- 
position to  His  service  ;  it  will  make  us 
tremble  at  folly  and  profaneness,  and 
command  reverence  and  prostration  to 
His  great  and  holy  Name. 

M  That  women  are  capable  of  such  im- 
provements, which  will  better  their 
judgments  and  understandings,  is  past  all 
doubt ;  would  they  but  set  to  it  in  earn- 


CATHARINE    BOVEY.  381 

est,  and  spend  but  half  of  that  time  in 
study  and  thinking  which  they  do  in 
visits,  vanity,  and  folly. 

"  It  would  introduce  a  composure  of 
mind,  and  lay  a  sound  basis  and  ground- 
work for  wisdom  and  knowledge,  by 
which  they  would  be  better  enabled  to 
serve  God,  and  help  their  neighbours." 

She  died  in  June,  1697,  in  her  twen- 
ty-fifth year,  and  was  buried  in  the 
churchyard  of  Barnes.  Some  English 
lines  were  inscribed  on  her  monument, 
and  Latin  verses  were  afterwards  com- 
posed to  her  memory. 

Mr.  Prude  dedicated  his  sermon  to 
eight  ladies,  who  were  her  friends  or  re- 
lations, and  some  of  whom  had  shown 
her  constant  attention  during  her  illness  : 
"  Lady  Mary  Fane,  Lady  Catharine 
Longueville,  Lady  Rachel  Delves,  Ma- 
dam Mary  Bampfylde,  Madam  Diana 
Montague,  Madam  Mary  Ewer,  Madam 
Catharine  Broncker." 

CATHARINE  BOVEY. 

Catharine  Bovey  was  the  daughter 
of  John  Riches,  Esq.,  of  London,  mer- 
chant. At  the  age  of  fifteen  she  was 
married  to  William  Bovey,  Esq.,  who 
was  Lord  of  thj  Manor  of  Flaxley,  in 
Gloucestershire,  a  gentleman  of  a  very 
plentiful  fortune. 

A  contemporary  author  gives  the  fol- 
lowing description  of  her  :  "  Her  per- 
son has  as  many  charms  as  can  be  desi- 
red.    She  is  one  of  those  loftv,  black. 


382  CATHARINE    BOVEY. 

and  lasting  beauties,  that  strike  with 
reverence,  and  yet  delight ;  there  is  no 
feature  in  her  face,  nor  any  thing  in  her 
person,  her  air,  and  manner,  that  could 
be  exchanged  for  any  others,  and  she  not 
prove  a  loser ;  then  as  to  her  mind  and 
conduct,  her  judgment,  her  sense,  her 
steadfastness,  her  reading,  her  wit  and 
conversation,  they  are  admirable,  so 
much  above  what  is  most  lovely  in  the 
sex,  that  shut  but  your  eyes,  (and  al- 
low for  the  music  of  her  voice,)  your 
mind  would  be  charmed,  as  thinking 
yourself  conversing  with  the  most  know- 
ing, most  refined  of  yours  ;  free  from  all 
levity  and  superficialness,  her  sense  is 
solid  and  perspicuous."  The  character 
goes  on  in  as  high  a  strain  of  praise  to 
describe  her  as  uniting  the  knowledge  of 
a  man  with  the  household  virtues  of  a 
woman,  and  concealing  her  perfections 
in  her  house  among  a  few  friends.  Sir 
Richard  Steele,  in  dedicating  to  her  the 
second  volume  of  the  Ladies'  Library, 
observed  to  her,  that  '•  instead  of  assem- 
blies, books  and  solitude  were  her  choice, 
and  that  she  had  gone  on  in  the  study  of 
what  she  should  be,  rather  than  attend 
to  the  celebration  of  what  she  was ; 
thus,"  says  he,  "  with  the  charms  of  the 
fairestof  your  own  sex,  and  knowledge  not 
inferior  to  the  more  learned  of  ours,  a 
closet,  a  bower,  or  some  beautuous  scene 
of  rural  nature,  has  constantly  robbed 
the  world  of  a  lady's  appearance,  who 
never  was  beheld  but  with  gladness  to 


CATHARINE  B0VEY.  383 

her  visitants,  nor  ever  admired  but  with 
pain  to  herself." 

"At  the  age  of  twenty-two,  she  was 
left  a  widow,  without  children,  and  rich, 
and  being  likewise  certain  of  inheriting 
a  large  fortune  from  her  father ;  these 
things,  added  to  her  beauty,  gained  her 
crowds  of  admirers.  She  however  chose 
to  remain  in  a  state  of  widowhood,  that 
she  might  be  certain  to  meet  with  no 
interruption  in  the  distribution  of  her 
great  riches,  which  she  employed  to  the 
best  purposes,  viz.,  to  various  works  of 
piety,  to  divers  kinds  of  charity,  to  hos- 
pitality, and  to  the  encouragement  of 
learning.  And  notwithstanding  the  dis- 
advantages of  her  education,  in  not  be- 
ing taught  the  learned  languages,  yet  by 
often  conversing  with  some  of  the  most 
learned  men  of  the  age,  and  by  her  reti- 
red way  of  life  and  intense  application 
to  study,  she  attained  to  a  very  great 
share  of  learning,  knowledge  and  judg- 
ment." 

Dr.  Hickes,  in  the  preface  to  a  learn- 
ed work  of  his  printed  long  before  her 
death,  expressed  his  esteem  for  her  in 
the  highest  terms,  calling  her  M  our 
Christian  Hypatia," 

She  died  in  January,  1726,  in  her  fif- 
ty-seventh year,  at  Flaxley,  in  Glouces- 
tershire, where  a  monument  was  erect- 
ed to  her,  with  an  inscription  recording 
her  hospitality  and  charity  while  she 
lived  there;  her  clothing  and  feeding 
the  poor,  and  teaching  their  children, 


384  MRS.    MART    ASTELL. 

some  of  whom  every  Sunday  in  turn, 
she  entertained  at  her  house,  and  exam- 
ined. It  records  also  her  bequests  to 
several  hospitals  and  other  charitable 
purposes,  and  her  intention  of  rebuilding 
this  chapel  at  Flaxley,  which  design 
was  fulfilled  by  her  executrix,  Mrs. 
Mary  Pope. 

The  same  lady,  who  as  she  recorded 
on  the  monument,  had  "  lived  with  her 
near  forty  years,  in  perfect  friendship, 
never  once  interrupted,"  erected  a  mon- 
ument to  her  also  in  Westminster  Ab- 
bey, with  a  long  inscription,  describing 
her  mode  of  life  as  it  has  been  already 
related  from  other  sources. 

MRS.  MARY  ASTELL. 

Mary  Astell,  whose  life  is  given  in 
Ballard's  Collection,  must  not  be  omit- 
ted among  the  remarkable  women  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  She  was  born  at 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  about  1668,  and 
was  the  daughter  of  a  merchant  of  that 
place,  who  gave  her  a  good  education  ; 
she  was  taught  all  the  accomplishments 
commonly  learned  by  young  gentlewo- 
men in  her  station,  and  though  at  that 
time  she  learnt  no  foreign  language  ex- 
cept French,  she  afterwards  gained  some 
knowledge  of  Latin.  Her  uncle,  who 
was  a  clergyman,  observing  her  quick 
natural  parts  and  eagerness  for  learning, 
undertook  to  be  her  preceptor,  and  un- 
der his  tuition  she  made  a  considerable 


MRS.    MART    ASTELL.  385 

progress    in    philosophy,    mathematics, 
and  logic. 

At  about  twenty  years  of  age  she  left 
Newcastle  and  went  to  London,  where, 
and  at  Chelsea,  she  spent  the  remainder 
of  her  life.  Here  she  pursued  her  stu- 
dies very  diligently,  and  in  a  little  time 
made  great  additions  to  her  knowledge 
of  the  sciences,  in  which  she  had  been 
already  instructed.  Her  own  delight  in 
learning  made  her  wish  that  it  should  be 
more  sought  after  by  her  own  sex,  under 
the  idea  that  it  would  keep  them  from 
many  follies  and  inconveniences.  With 
this  impression  she  wrote  and  published 
•a  treatise,  entitled,  "  A  Serious  Propo- 
sal to  the  Ladies,  for  the  advancement 
of  their  true  and  greatest  interest,"  &c, 
and  some  time  after  she  published  a 
second  part.  "  Wherein  a  method  is  of- 
fered for  the  improvement  of  their 
minds."  In  the  first  part  she  proposed 
a  scheme  for  a  kind  of  college  for  the 
education  and  improvement  of  the  fe- 
male sex,  and  to  serve  as  a  retreat  to  such 
ladies  as  were  averse  to  the  bustle  of  the 
world,  and  wished  for  a  peaceful  retire- 
ment. The  name  of  a  convent  was  to 
be  avoided,  if  likely  to  give  offence,  and 
the  inmates  were  to  be  bound  by  no 
vows;  but  during  their  residence,  were 
to  observe  all  fast  days,  and  other  ap- 
pointments of  the  Church,  to  spend 
much  of  their  time  in  devotion  and  char- 
ity, to  educate  young  persons,  especially 
orphans,  and  to  cultivate  their  own  minds 


386  MRS.    MART    ASTELL. 

by  reading.  "  The  scheme  seemed  so 
reasonable,  and  wrought  so  far  upon  a 
certain  great  lady,  that  she  had  design- 
ed to  give  d£lO,000  towards  the  founda- 
tion of  such  an  establishment ;  bur  this 
design  coming  to  the  ears  of  Bishop 
Burnet,  he  immediately  went  to  that 
lady,  and  so  powerfully  remonstrated 
against  it,  telling  her  it  would  look  like 
preparing  a  way  for  Popish  orders,  that 
it  would  be  reputed  a  nunnery,  &eM 
that  he  utterly  frustrated  that  noble  de- 
sign." 

Soon  after  Mrs.  Astell  had  published 
the  first  part  of  her  Proposal,  she  read 
Mr.  John  Norris's  Practical  Discourses, 
upon  several  Divine  subjects ;  these  up- 
on careful  study  raised  some  doubts  and 
scruples  in  her,  concerning  the  love  of 
God,  and  she  addressed  herself  to  the 
author  for  the  solution  of  her  difficulties. 
Several  letters  passed  between  them  on 
the  subject,  which  were  afterwards  pub- 
lished at  the  desire  of  Mr.  Norris,  and 
with  Mrs.  Astell's  consent,  though  she 
did  not  put  her  name  to  these  or  any 
other  of  her  writings. 

Notwithstanding  her  care  to  conceal 
herself,  her  name  was  discovered  by 
some  learned  persons,  and  her  letters 
greatly  applauded. 

She  continued  to  apply  so  diligently 
to  her  studies,  especially  at  this  time  to 
the  classic  writers,  that  "  when  she  saw 
visiters  coming,  whom  she  knew  to  be 
incapable  of  discoursing  upon  any  useful 


MRS.    MARY    ASTE1,X,.  387 

subject,  but  to  come  for  the  sake  of  chat 
and  tattle,  she  would  look  out  at  the 
window,  and  jestingly  tell  them,  4  Mrs. 
Astell  is  not  at  home  ;'  and  in  good 
earnest  keep  them  out,  not  suffering 
such  triflers  to  make  inroads  upon  her 
more  serious  hours." 

In  1700,  she  wrote  and  published 
a  book,  entitled,  Reflections  on  Mar- 
riage. It  was  thought  that  in  this  work 
she  carried  her  arguments  for  the  birth- 
rights and  privileges  of  her  sex  rather 
too  far,  nor  is  the  reason  assigned  by  her 
biographer  for  this  excess,  such  as  to 
make  it  seem  more  justifiable,  for  he  ac- 
counts for  it  by  her  disappointment  in  a 
marriage  contract  wiHh  an  eminent  cler- 
gyman. On  hearing  that  her  book  had 
given  some  offence,  she  prefixed  a  pre- 
face to  the  second  edition,  in  which  she 
defended  herself,  it  is  said,  with  a  great 
deal  of  wit  and  smartness. 

Continuing  to  support  a  character 
which  seems  more  fitted  to  a  man  than 
to  a  woman,  she  courageously  and  suc- 
cessfully attacked  the  sectaries  who 
were  at  this  time  carrying  on  designs 
against  the  Church  ;  and  whilst  she  en- 
gaged the  attention  of  the  world  by  her 
productions  of  this  kind,  she  also  wrote 
refutations  of  heretical  doctrines. 

In  spite  of  all  her  endeavours  to  con- 
ceal herself,  she  was  discovered  to  be 
the  author,  by  learned  men,  and  receiv- 
ed high  commendations  from  Dr.  Hickes, 
Dr.    John    Walker,    Mr.   Dodwell,   and 


388  MRS.    MART    ASTELL. 

Mr.  Evelyn,  and  others.  Dr.  Atterbury, 
in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Smallridge,  gave  this 
account  of  his  meeting  with  her  : 

"  Dear  George, 

"  I  happened  about  a  fortnight  ago  to 
dine  with  Mrs.  Astell.  She  spoke  to  me 
of  my  sermon,"  (supposed  to  be  one 
which  he  preached,  and  afterwards 
printed,  against  Bishop  Hoadley's  Mea- 
sures of  Moderation,)  "  and  desired  me 
to  print  it,  and  after  1  had  given  her  the 
proper  answer,  hinted  to  me  that  she 
should  be  glad  of  perusing  it ;  I  com- 
plied with  her,  and  sent  her  the  sermon 
the  next  day.  Yesterday  she  returned 
it  with  this  sheet  of  remarks,  which  I 
cannot  forbear  communicating  to  you, 
because  I  take  them  to  be  of  an  extra- 
ordinary nature,  considering  that  they 
came  from  the  pen  of  a  woman.  Indeed 
one  would  not  imagine  a  woman  had 
written  them.  There  is  not  an  expres- 
sion that  carries  the  least  air  of  her  sex 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  it.  She 
attacks  me  very  home  you  see.  and  art- 
fully enough,  under  a  pretence  of  taking 
my  part  against  other  divines,  who  are 
in  Hoadley's  measures.  Had  she  had 
as  much  good  breeding  as  good  sense, 
she  would  be  perfect  ;  but  she  has  not 
the  most  decent  manner  of  insinuating 
what  she  means,  but  is  now  and  then  a 
little  offensive  and  shocking  in  her  ex- 
pressions ;  which  I  wonder  at,  because 
a  civil  turn  of  words  is  what  her  sex  is 


MRS.    MART    ASTELIi.  389 

always  mistress  of.  She,  I  think,  is 
wanting  in  it.  But  her  sensible  and  ra- 
tional way  of  writing  makes  amends  for 
that  defect,  if  indeed  any  thing  can 
make  amends  for  it.  I  dread  to  engage 
her ;  so  I  only  writ  a  general  civil  an- 
swer to  her,  and  leave  the  rest  to  an 
oral  conference.  Her  way  of  solving 
the  difficulty  of  swearing  to  the  queen 
is  very  singular." 

Her  biographer  defends  her  against 
the  bishop's  charge  of  a  want  of  civility 
in  her  expressions,  of  which,  he  says,  he 
never  heard  her  accused  by  any  other 
person. 

She  wrote  several  political  pamphlets, 
her  principles  being  those  of  a  loyal  sub- 
ject, but  not  of  a  nonjuror.  She  also 
wrote  a  treatise  on  the  Christian  Reli- 
gion, as  professed  by  a  daughter  of  the 
Church  of  England,  which  was  address- 
ed by  way  of  letter  to  a  great  lady. 
This  book  is  referred  to  by  Dr.  Water- 
land,  who,  objecting  to  some  points  of 
doctrine  set  forth  by  Dr.  Tillotson,  aids 
in  a  note,  that  one  of  these  points  has 
been  modestly  and  judiciously  examined 
by  an  ingenious  lady. 

As  much  of  her  earlier  life  had  been 
spent  in  the  advancement  of  learning  and 
virtue,  so  the  latter  part  of  it  was  chief- 
ly employed  in  the  practice  of  those  re- 
ligious duties  which  she  had  earnestly 
recommended  to  others  ;  and  although, 
from  the  very  flower  of  her  age,  she 
lived  and  conversed  with  the  gay  world 


390  MRS.    MARY    ASTELL. 

of  London,  yet  she  resisted  its  tempta- 
tions, "  and  in  the  midst  of  it  led  a  holy, 
pure,  and  even  angelical  life.  She  did 
not  only  approve  things  that  are  excel- 
lent, but  practised  them  also,  and  yet 
her  severe  strictness  of  holy  discipline 
was  not  attended  by  sourness  or  morose- 
ness  of  temper  ;  her  mind  being  gen- 
erally calm  and  serene,  and  her  deport- 
ment and  conversation  highly  entertain- 
ing, and  innocently  facetious.  She 
would  say,  «  The  good  Christian  only 
has  reason,  and  he  always  ought  to  be, 
cheerful.'  And  that  '  dejected  looks  and 
melancholy  airs  were  very  unseemly  in 
a  Christian.'  But,  though  she  was  easy 
and  affable  to  others,  to  herself  she  was 
severe  ;  she  would  live  like  a  hermit, 
for  a  considerable  time  together,  upon  a 
crust  of  bread  and  water  with  a  little 
small  beer.  And  at  the  time  of  her 
highest  living,  (when  she  was  at  home,) 
she  very  rarely  eat  any  dinner  till  night, 
and  then  it  was  by  the  strictest  rules  of 
temperance.  She  would  say,  abstinence 
was  her  best  physic  ;  and  would  fre- 
quently observe,  that  those  who  indulged 
themselves  in  eating  and  drinking,  could 
not  be  so  well  disposed  or  prepared  eith- 
er for  study,  or  the  regular  and  devout 
service  of  their  Creator." 

She  seemed  to  enjoy  an  uninterrupted 
state  of  health  till  a  few  years  before 
her  death,  when  she  was  obliged  to  have 
an  operation  performed  for  a  cancer, 
which   she   had   long  concealed.      She 


MRS.    MARY    ASTELL.  391 

then  went  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Johnson, 
eminent  for  his  skill  in  surgery,  with 
only  one  person  to  attend  her;  she  re- 
fused to  have  her  hands  held,  and  show- 
ed no  timidity,  but  endured  the  pain 
without  a  groan  or  a  sigh. 

"  Her  excellent  friend,  Lady  Eliza- 
beth Hastings,  made  use  of  Mr.  Johnson 
on  the  same  occasion.  This  great  lady's 
friendship  to  Mrs.  Astell  continued  in- 
violable to  the  last  date  of  her  life ;  and 
well  knowing  that  she  did  not  abound  in 
riches,  her  generosity  to  her  was  such, 
that  she  has  given  her  fourscore  guineas 
at  one  time.  "  Her  health  and  strength 
now  declined  apace,  and  at  length  by  a 
gradual  decay  of  nature,  being  confined 
to  her  bed,  and  finding  the  time  of  her 
dissolution  draw  nigh,  she  ordered  her 
coffin  and  shroud  to  be  made,  and 
brought  toher  bedside,  and  there  to  re- 
main in  her  view,  as  a  constant  memen- 
to to  her  of  her  approaching  fate,  and 
that  her  mind  might  not  deviate  or  stray 
one  moment  from  God,  its  most  proper 
object.  Her  thoughts  were  now  so  en- 
tirely fixed  upon  God  and  eternity,  that 
for  some  days  before  her  death,  she 
earnestly  desired  that  no  company  might 
be  permitted  to  come  to  her  ;  refusing  at 
that  time  to  see  even  her  old  and  dear 
friend,  the  Lady  Catherine  Jones,  pure- 
ly because  she  would  not  be  disturbed  in 
the  last  moments  of  her  divine  contem- 
plations. She  died  the  11th  of  May, 
1731,  and  was  buried  at  Chelsea." 


392 

LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

This  lady  is  described  in  the  forty- 
second  number  of  the  Tatler,  under  the 
name  of  Aspasia.  After  speaking  of  the 
ladies  of  that  day  who  were  wits,  poli- 
ticians, virtuosos,  freethinkers,  and  dis- 
putants, and  showing  how  different  they 
were  from  the  women  of  Shakspeare's 
time,  who  were  only  mothers,  sisters, 
daughters,  and  wives,  the  paper  goes 
on  : 

44  But  these  ancients  would  be  as 
much  astonished  to  see  in  the  same  age 
so  illustrious  a  pattern  to  all  who  love 
things  praiseworthy,  as  the  divine  As- 
pasia. Methinks,  I  now  see  her  walking 
in  her  garden  like  our  first  parent,  with 
unaffected  charms,  before  beauty  had 
spectators,  and  bearing  celestial  con- 
scious virtue  in  her  aspect.  Her  coun- 
tenance is  the  lively  picture  of  her  mind, 
which  is  the  seat  of  honour,  truth,  com- 
passion, knowledge,  and  innocence. 
4  There  dwells  the  scorn  of  vice,  and  pity  too.' 

44  In  the  midst  of  the  most  ample  for- 
tune and  veneration  of  all  that  behold 
and  know  her,  without  the  least  affecta- 
tion, she  consults  retirement,  the  con- 
templation of  her  own  being,  and  that 
Supreme  Power  which  bestowed  it. 
Without  the  learning  of  schools,  or 
knowledge  of  a  long  course  of  argu- 
ments, she  goes  on  in  a  ^eady  course  of 
uninterrupted  piety  and  virtue,  and  adds 
to  the  severity  and  privacy  of  the  last 


LADY   ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.  393 

age,  all  the  freedom  and  ease  of  this. 
The  language  and  mien  of  a  court  she  is 
possessed  of  in  the  highest  degree  ;  but 
the  simplicity  and  humble  thoughts  of  a 
cottage  are  her  more  welcome  entertain- 
ments. Aspasia  is  a  female  philosopher, 
who  does  not  only  live  up  to  the  resig- 
nation of  the  most  retired  lives  of  the  an- 
cient sages,  but  also  to  the  schemes  and 
plans  which  they  thought  beautiful, 
though  inimitable.  This  lady  is  the 
most  exact  economist,  without  appearing 
busy  ;  the  most  strictly  virtuous,  with- 
out tasting  the  praise  of  it ;  and  shuns 
applause  with  as  much  industry,  as  oth- 
ers do  reproach.  This  character  is  so 
particular,  that  it  will  very  easily  be 
fixed  on  her  only,  by  all  that  know  her  ; 
but  I  dare  say,  she  will  be  the  last  that 
finds  it  out." 

This  character  was  written  in  July, 
1709,  when  she  was  in  her  twenty- 
eighth  year,  and  that  published  in  Wil- 
ford's  Memorials,  from  the  notices  of  her 
after  her  death  in  the  public  prints,  is  in 
as  warm  a  strain  of  panegyric. 

A  more  full  account  of  her  life  is  given 
in  an  Historical  Character  relating  to 
the  holy  and  exemplary  life  of  the  Right 
Honourable  the  Lady  Elizabeth  Hast- 
ings, written  by  Thomas  Barnard,  M.A,, 
Master  of  the  Free  School  at  Leeds, 
and  dedicated  to  Francis  Lord  Hastings, 
who  was  her  principal  heir. 

From  all  that  is  recorded  of  her,  it 
would  seem  to  be  truly  said  in  the  Tat- 


394       LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

ler,  that  she  brought  "  the  severity  and 
privacy  of  the  last  age,"  into  "  the  free- 
dom and  ease"  of  that  in  which  she  lived. 

She  was  the  daughter  to  Theophilus, 
seventh  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  by  Eliza- 
beth, daughter  and  co-heir  of  Sir  John 
Lewis,  Bart.,  and  was  born  on  the  19th 
of  April,  1682.  In  her  childhood  she 
was  remarked  for  a  sweetness  of  coun- 
tenance, expressing  at  once  dignity  and 
modesty,  for  an  ingenuous  temper,  an 
aptness  of  understanding,  a  tractable 
will,  and  a  devout  frame  of  spirit  which 
early  disposed  her  to  an  awful  sense  of 
holy  things.  Her  early  years  were 
spent  in  a  quiet  and  uniform  way,  and  it 
is  said  of  her,  that  "  she  followed  not  the 
world  in  its  vain  and  trifling  amuse- 
ments, and  things  much  worse  than 
them ;  but  kept  close  to  her  baptismal 
vow,  as  she  was  progressively  taught, 
and  understood  it." 

"  A  young  lady  of  less  severity  of 
manners  than  herself,  invited  her  once 
to  an  entertainment  over  a  romance,  and 
most  dear  did  she  pay  for  it :  what  evil 
tinctures  she  took  from  it  I  cannot  tell ; 
but  this  I  can,  that  the  remembrance  of 
it  would  now  and  then  annoy  her  spirit 
down  into  declining  life.  The  little  else, 
after  diligent  inquiry,  that  can  be  col- 
lected of  her,  to  be  inserted  in  this  place, 
is,  that  she  affected  privacy  and  retire- 
ment, and  was  much  in  her  closet  in  holy 
employments ;  that  in  some  contrasts 
between  the  earl  her  father,  and  Lord 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.       395 

Hastings  her  brother,  her  conduct  was 
such,  that  she  preserved  the  kindness 
and  affection  of  both ;  that  after  the 
death  of  the  former,  and  till  the  death  of 
the  latter,  she  would  be  doing  great 
things  with  her  fortune,  when  her  abili- 
ties were  not  so  great." 

Her  father  was  after  the  Revolution 
deprived  of  all  his  offices,  and  excluded 
from  the  benefit  of  King  William's  Act 
of  indemnity,  in  May,  1690,  two  years 
after  which  he  was  committed  to  the 
Tower,  upon  alarm  of  an  intended  de- 
scent upon  the  coasts,  in  favour  of  King 
James.  In  1701,  he  was  one  of  the 
peers  who  protested  against  the  Act  of 
Settlement,  and  dying  in  the  same  year, 
he  was  succeeded  by  George,  his  only 
son  by  his  first  wife,  then  in  his  twenty- 
fourth  year.  The  son's  political  princi- 
ples seem  to  have  been  different  from 
those  of  the  father,  since  he  carried  the 
sceptre  at  the  coronation  of  Queen 
Anne,  and  distinguished  himself  at  the 
sieges  of  Venlo  and  Ruremond.  He  died 
unmarried  in  1704,  admired,  it  is  said, 
for  his  sweet  and  manly  disposition.  He 
was  succeeded  by  his  half-brother, 
Theophilus,  the  eldest  of  a  family  of  two 
sons  and  four  daughters,  but  his  only 
whole  sister  was  Lady  Elizabeth,  who 
therefore  inherited  upon  his  death  the 
large  estates  which  descended  from  their 
mother. 

When  she  thus  became,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-two,  the  mistress  of  a  large  for- 


396      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

tune,  her  character  was  necessarily 
more  known  to  the  world,  and  she  was 
observed  to  be  somewhat  more  than  a 
lady  of  great  beauty  and  fine  accom- 
plishments, of  condescension  and  good- 
nature, and  regular  observance  of  reli- 
gious duties.  In  order  to  increase  that 
stock  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  which 
she  had  laid  in  by  her  own  endeavours, 
and  by  assistance  from  the  appointed 
ministers  under  whom  she  lived,  she 
cultivated  the  friendship  of  such  learned 
men  as  Archbishop  Sharpe,  Mr.  Nelson, 
Dr.  Lucas,  and  others,  of  which  friend- 
ships she  spoke  with  joy  more  than 
twenty  years  after  the  latest  of  these 
holy  men  had  left  this  world. 

She  obediently  followed  the  counsels 
which  she  received  from  them,  doing 
every  thing  which  the  rules  of  the  Gos- 
pel require,  and  taking  nothing,  using 
nothing  but  what  is  allowed  by  it,  nor 
even  so  many  things  as  are  allowed. 

Her  residence  was  at  Ledstone  House, 
a  fine  gray  stone  building,  of  the  style 
of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign,  standing 
upon  a  height  which  looks  towards  the 
south,  "  beautiful,"  says  her  biographer, 
"  within  doors  and  without,"  where  she 
spent  the  greater  part  of  her  life,  dili- 
gently employing  her  time  there  in 
friendship  for  those  who  lived  with  her 
as  friends  and  neighbours,  and  chari- 
ty to  those  who  required  her  assist- 
ance. 

Her  beauty  and  other  attractions  of 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.       397 

person,  manners  and  accomplishments 
were  such,  as  without  her  large  fortune 
might  easily  inspire  affection  :  but  she 
refused  the  offers  of  several  among  the 
nobility,  and  chose  to  continue  in  a  sin- 
gle life,  either  it  is  supposed,  that  she 
might  make  a  wise  and  religious  use  of 
her  great  estate,  or  accounting  that  a 
single  life  naturally  led  to  higher  per- 
fection. 

Robert  Nelson  in  one  of  his  letters  ap- 
plied to  her  the  text,  •  Many  daughters 
have  done  virtuously,  but  thou  excellest 
them  all ;'  and  such  praise  from  such  a 
man  would  seem  to  justify  the  enthusi- 
astic tone  adopted  by  her  biographer, 
though  many  of  his  expressions  are  too 
high-flown  to  add  to  the  real  interest  of 
his  narrative.  Passing  over  therefore 
his  comparisons  of  her  to  ladies  of  for- 
mer times,  it  is  enough  to  say,  that  he 
professes  to  receive  his  account  of  her 
where  it  extended  beyond  his  own  know- 
ledge, from  several  competent  witnesses, 
and  especially  from  one  who  lived  in 
perfect  intimacy  with  her,  and  had  suffi- 
cient penetration  and  fidelity  to  declare, 
what  could  truly,  soberly,  and  usefully 
be  said  upon  the  subject. 

In  her  conversation  with  men  she 
could  penetrate  their  real  characters, 
and  often  detect  errors  in  books  by  the 
keenness  of  her  judgment,  as  it  once 
happened  that  in  a  tract  submitted  to 
her,  she  detected  an  important  error 
contained  in  a  single  word,  which  the 


398      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

author  believed  would  have  always  es- 
caped his  own  observation. 

Her  attendance  and  apparel  were 
such  as  became  her  station  ;  her  support 
of  the  body  by  meat,  drink,  and  sleep, 
was  bounded  by  necessity,  and  the  in- 
tervals of  sleep  were  employed  in  pious 
meditations,  or  prudent  thought  as  to  the 
duties  of  her  Christian  calling.  She 
studied  the  Word  of  God  daily,  that  by 
it  she  might  amend  her  life  ;  other  books 
that  she  used  were  wisely  chosen  for 
soundness  of  doctrine  and  sentiments. 
She  used  her  pen  much,  sometimes  for 
her  own  service,  but  more  for  the  ser- 
vice of  others,  and  many  of  her  papers 
were  destroyed  by  her  own  desire  which 
would  have  made  her  known  more  fully 
than  any  other  source  of  information 
could.  She  began  every  day  with  sup- 
plications, prayers,  and  intercessions  in 
private,  praying  with  all  earnestness, 
and  purity  of  heart,  and  throughout  the 
day  she  remembered  the  Eye  of  God 
over  her,  raising  up  her  soul  to  Him 
with  holy  aspirations.  Four  times  a 
day  all  her  family,  who  were  not  neces- 
sarily engaged,  assembled  to  attend 
prayers,  and  chiefly  the  holy  service  of 
the  Church,  read  for  the  most  part  by 
the  established  minister,  or  some  other, 
or  else  by  one  of  the  upper  servants. 

She  delighted  in  public  worship,  and 
constantly  attended  it,  with  a  grave  and 
awful  demeanour,  free  from  affectation. 
She  watched  strictly  over  her  own  heart 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.      399 

to  keep  it  clear  of  evil  mixtures,  and  the 
taint  of  self-love,  continually  purifying 
her  heart  by  acts  of  faith  in  the  Blood  of 
her  Redeemer,  by  rating  her  own  right- 
eousness at  nothing,  by  marking  well, 
and  daily  committing  to  writing  all  her 
little  slips,  and  washing  them  away  with 
tears  of  repentance,  descending  even  to 
vain  imaginations,  and  such  as  happened 
in  her  sleep  ;  "  and  for  the  expiation  of 
slips,  and  things  less  than  they,  (besides 
prostrations,  and  other  humiliations  and 
austerities,)"  shedding  abundance  of 
tears  ;  keeping  her  spirit  moreover  in  a 
recollected  state,  and  herself  in  readi- 
ness to  lie  down  in  death,  even  in  the 
midst  of  life,  and  in  firm  health. 

She  was  careful  and  tender  of  her  ser* 
vants,  and  even  of  her  cattle,  and  be- 
sides providing  for  the  temporal  wants 
of  those  who  lived  in  her  house,  causing 
every  artificer  employed  by  her  to  take 
care  of  their  comfort,  and  seeking  gently 
to  lead  them  into  ways  of  goodness  and 
religion  ;  she  kept  her  house  with  great 
elegance  both  within  and  without,  that 
her  poor  neighbours  might  not  want  em- 
ployment. She  practised  charity  both 
by  almsgiving,  visiting  and  consoling 
the  sick  and  afflicted,  receiving  the  poor 
at  her  house,  and  sending  sums  of  money 
to  a  distance. 

"  Her  still  larger  applications  were 
fixed  pensions  upon  reduced  families, 
exhibitions  to  scholars  in  the  Universi- 
ties, the  maintenance  of  her  own  Chari- 


400      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

ty  School,  her  contributions  to  others, 
disbursements  to  the  Religious  Societies 
for  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  in  foreign 
parts,  and  promoting  Christian  know- 
ledge at  home,  for  the  erection,  decora- 
tion, and  augmentation  of  churches  ;  add 
to  these,  free  and  frequent  remission  of 
debts,  in  cases  of  straitness  or  insol- 
vency ;  flowing  plenty  and  all  becoming 
magnificence  upheld  in  the  house,  and 
acts  of  generosity  to  relations,  friends, 
and  those  that  were  neither." 

Her  rule  was,  to  give  the  first  place 
to  justice,  the  second  to  charity,  and  the 
third  to  generosity. 

To  secure  the  doing  justice,  she  paid 
<£100  to  the  king,  as  it  was  only  against 
him,  that  through  inadvertence,  she 
could  have  acted  unjustly.  Her  charity 
has  been  already  said  to  be  continued 
and  abundant,  and  of  her  generosity,  in- 
stances may  be  given,  of  c£500  a  year 
given  to  one  relation,  ^£3000  in  money 
to  another,  300  guineas  with  large  prom- 
ises of  more  to  a  young  lady,  who  had 
impaired  her  fortune  by  engaging  in  the 
South-sea  scheme,  and  many  others. 

If  it  is  asked  how  all  this  is  done  out 
of  an  estate  short  of  663000  a  year,  much 
of  which  yet  remains  to  her  family,  it 
can  only  be  answered,  that  to  him  who 
scattereth  abroad  is  promised  an  increase, 
and  that  this  lady's  economy,  with  the 
simplicity  of  her  own  wants,  allowed  her 
to  give  liberally  ;  "  for  they  that  walk  in 
the  Spirit  as  she  did,  die  progressively  to 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.      401 

every  vanity,  and  take  coldness  and  in- 
differency  at  the  things  that  are  without 
them,  and  do  not  mind  the  things  per- 
taining to  the  flesh,  none  of  its  many 
hurtful  gratifications ;  but  chastise  it, 
and  keep  it  under,  as  knowing  it  to  be 
the  seat  of  their  most  dangerous  and 
deadly  enemies." 

She  entered  into  society,  but  always 
with  a  guard  upon  herself,  which  re- 
strained her  talents  for  conversation 
within  the  bounds  of  religion,  charity, 
and  courtesy,  and  enabled  her  dexter- 
ously and  pleasantly  to  introduce  reli- 
gious subjects,  in  which  was  her  real  de- 
light. "  At  her  table  her  countenance 
was  open  and  serene  ;  her  speech  soft 
and  musical ;  her  language  polite,  and 
seasoned  with  salt.  Her  house  and  ta- 
ble were  generally  adorned  by  some 
parts  of  her  family,  whom  she  received 
with  true  and  tender  affection ;  she 
would  seek  out  any  branches  of  her  fam- 
ily, who  were  in  want  or  obscurity,  and 
inquire  into  the  names  and  memories  of 
remote  ancestors,  informing  herself  of 
their  public  benefactions,  in  order  that 
she  might  enlarge  them.  Her  half- 
brother,  Ferdinand,  died  in  1726,  in  his 
twenty-seventh  year,  and  a  character  of 
him  is  preserved  in  Wilford's  Memo- 
rials, where  he  is  described  as  having 
always  lived  in  strictly  moral  and  reli- 
gious habits.  Such  appears  to  have 
been  the  general  character  of  the  family, 
and  the  Countess  Selina  traced  her  first 


402      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

strong  religious  impressions  to  Lady 
Margaret,  her  sister-in-law,  one  of  the 
sisters  of  the  second  family. 

Lady  Elizabeth  ever  honoured  the 
priests  of  God  for  the  sake  of  their  of- 
fice, and  for  her  and  their  great  Master. 
"  She  lived  in  the  Communion  of  the 
Church  of  England,  and  never  started 
from  it,  so  much  as  in  thought,  to  her 
dying  day  ;  and  though  her  conscience 
was  most  tender  and  carefully  instruct- 
ed, and  scruples  sometimes  occurred  to 
her  in  other  matters,  yet  not  one  scruple 
ever  disturbed  her  about  the  lawfulness 
of  adhering  to  the  Church  of  England. 
She  mourned  deeply  for  any  attempts 
made  to  corrupt  and  overthrow  the  mys- 
teries, the  faith,  any  one  of  the  essen- 
tials, which,  under  authority  of  Scrip- 
ture, are  taught  by  our  Church,  and 
would  as  much  have  dreaded  to  let  an 
infidel  book  approach  her  dwelling,  as  if 
it  had  been  the  plague." 

She  was  much  interested  in  the  habits 
of  those  young  men  at  Oxford,  among 
whom  Methodism  afterwards  took  its 
rise,  and  she  hoped  for  much  good  from 
them  whilst  they  avowed  only  sound  re- 
ligion as  it  is  professed  by  the  English 
Church  ;  but  when  new  doctrines  were 
introduced,  and  men  were  alienated 
from  their  settled  ministers,  she  was 
among  the  foremost  to  remonstrate 
against  them. 

About  nine  years  before  her  death, 
her  brother  Theophilus  married  Lady 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.         403 

Selina  Ferrers,  who  was  afterwards  so 
celebrated  as  the  patroness  of  the  Me- 
thodists, and  whose  name  is  still  pre- 
served as  the  foundress  of  a  sect  amongst 
them,  called  Lady  Huntingdon's  Chris- 
tians. 

One  feature  of  Lady  Elizabeth's  char- 
acter has  not  yet  been  mentioned,  the 
meekness  with  which  she  endured  any 
ill-treatment,  or  misbehaviour  that  con- 
cerned only  herself.  Or  if  ever  by 
speech,  by  manner  or  otherwise,  she 
only  suspected  that  she  had  caused  dis- 
turbance to  others,  she  had  no  peace 
with  herself  till  she  had  restored  their 
peace,  and  would  often  ask  forgiveness 
from  those,  even  of  her  inferiors,  who 
did  not  know  what  cause  she  had  given 
for  asking  it. 

Mr.  Barnard,  in  addressing  his  book  to 
Lord  Hastings,  then  a  boy,  who  was 
nephew  to  Lady  Elizabeth,  and  heir  to 
a  great  part  of  her  estate,  refers  hope- 
fully to  the  time  when  he  shall  be  of  an 
age  to  reside  at  Ledstone,  "  where  Lady 
Betty  hallowed  one  place  by  her  pri- 
vate, another  by  her  public  devotions ; 
where,  in  her  drawing-room,  she  main- 
tained a  visible  pre-eminence  over  the 
highest  and  finest  of  her  sex  ;  or  else- 
where cast  herself  upon  a  level  with  the 
lowest  and  meanest  of  them ;  where, 
without  doors,  in  one  verdant  recess* 
finding  and  adoring  her  Creator  in  all 
things,  she  received  the  early  approach- 
es of  the  sun  ;  in  another,  attended  upon 
his  going  down." 


404      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

These  praises  were  written  after  her 
death,  for  during  her  life-time,  he  says, 
that  she  could  never  endure  to  hear  one 
word  in  her  own  praise  ;  "  and  when  all 
the  finest  pens  in  the  kingdom  were  in- 
vited to  display  her  worth,  the  design 
miscarried,  purely  by  her  own  opposi- 
tion." 

When  she  had  entered  her  fifty-fourth 
year,  she  began  to  suffer  from  a  tumour, 
produced  by  a  hurt  during  her  youth, 
which  till  that  time  had  caused  her  little 
or  no  disturbance,  but  then  increased  so 
dangerously  that  an  eminent  surgeon 
decided  upon  the  necessity  of  a  most 
painful  operation  for  removing  the  evil. 

It  happened  at  the  time  when  this  was 
made  known  to  Lady  Elizabeth,  that  a 
neighbouring  clergyman,  (apparently 
Mr.  Barnard,)  who  had  a  correspond- 
ence with  one  in  the  family,  heard  from 
his  friend  of  their  being  in  affliction, 
without  mentioning  the  cause  ;  he  judg- 
ed however  that  it  was  of  a  serious 
nature,  and  that  it  concerned  Lady 
Elizabeth,  and  wrote  an  answer  as  suit- 
ably as  he  could,  upon  no  other  grounds 
than  his  own  conjecture  ;  "  in  his  letter 
he  touched  upon  the  necessity  of  suffer- 
ings, setting  forth  briefly  those  that 
Christ  endured  in  the  flesh  ;  that  He  will 
bring  all  His  followers  into  likeness  of, 
and  conformity  to  Himself  in  all  things; 
that  sufferings  were  the  way  to  His  per- 
fection, and  must  be  to  ours,  and  are  the 
expressly  declared  condition  of  our  be^ 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.       405 

ing  glorified  with  Him,  the  truest  marks 
and  characteristics  of  our  adoption  ;  the 
most  sovereign  medicines  that  come 
from  Heaven  for  all  our  latent  sickness." 

This  letter  was  shown  to  Lady  Eliza- 
beth, and  with  more  emotion  than  was 
usual  to  her,  she  said,  "she  would  not 
wish  to  be  out  of  her  present  situation 
for  all  the  world,  nor  exchange  it  for  any 
other  at  any  price."  For  indeed  in  her 
former  life  she  had  often  expressed  some 
uneasiness  that  her  own  sufferings,  ac- 
cording to  her  reckoning  of  them,  should 
be  little  or  none  ;  and  one  who  had  a 
station  under  her,  not  unskilled  in  this 
kind  of  knowledge,  believed  that  the 
mighty  torrent  of  sufferings  which  broke 
in  upon  her  at  the  last  was  for  this  pur- 
pose, among  others,  to  solace  her  spirit, 
and  to  strengthen  her  assurance  that  she 
had  every  mark  and  token  of  her  favour 
and  acceptance  with  God. 

She  continued  her  every  clay  life  with 
great  meekness  and  tranquillity,  without 
any  change  in  her  temper,  in  serenity 
and  cheerfulness,  till  the  time  appointed 
for  the  operation,  sitting  loose  and  indif- 
ferent for  life  or  death,  as  is  expressed 
in  the  prayer  which  Mr.  Barnard  com- 
posed for  her  use  upon  this  occasion. 

"  O  my  God  !  again  I  humble  myself 
before  Thy  footstool,  in  deep  and  hearty 
acknowledgments,  that  Thou  art  right- 
eous in  all  Thy  ways,  and  Holy  in  all 
Thy  works ;  and  that  Thou  of  very  faith- 
fulness hast  caused  me  to  be  troubled. 
m  2 


406      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

"  I  bless  and  praise  Thee  for  all  Thy 
mercies,  which  from  my  youth  up,  until 
now,  have  embraced  me  on  every  side. 

**  And  shall  I  receive  all  this  abun- 
dant good  from  Thee,  and  shall  I  not  re- 
ceive some  evil  ?  Yes,  O  my  God  !  I 
will  not  only  receive  it,  but  bless  and 
praise  Thee,  for  calling  me  to  this  trial 
of  my  patience  and  submission  to  Thy 
blessed  will ;  for  this  gracious  pledge 
and  token  of  Thy  love ;  for  this  Thy 
wholesome  medicine  for  the  sickness, 
decays,  and  pollutions  of  my  spirit ;  and 
above  all,  that  Thou  art  pleased  more 
and  more,  to  transform  me  into  the  like- 
ness of  thy  blessed  Son,  who  was  a  man 
of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief. 

"  O !  do  Thou,  for  His  sake,  for  the 
sake  of  Thy  Beloved  and  mine,  in  whom 
Thou  hast  wrought  for  us  most  plen- 
teous redemption,  do  Thou,  who  alone 
art  able,  bring  me  out  of  this  furnace  of 
affliction,  and  grant,  that  either  for  life 
or  death,  according  as  Thy  good  plea- 
sure shall  appoint  for  me,  I  may  come 
out  of  it  as  gold  purified  seven  times  in 
the  fire. 

"  Be  Thou  my  strength,  and  my  sup- 
port, and  of  all  those  that  shall  be  about 
me  in  the  hour  when  we  shall  stand  in 
greatest  need  of  Thy  presence  ;  and 
drive  from  me  and  from  them,  both  then 
and  for  ever,  ever}7  fear  that  is  injurious 
to  the  fear  of  offending  Thee. 

"  And  when  anguish  shall  come  upon 
me,  and   the  iron  shall  enter  into  my 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.      407 

soul,  Oh  !  then  imprint  upon  my  spirit 
the  blessed  Hands  and  the  Feet,  that 
were  pierced  for  me  ;  and  for  Thy  tender 
mercy's  sake,  sweeten  my  bitter  cup 
with  some  sense  and  feeling  of  the  in- 
conceivable sufferings  of  my  dear  Re- 
deemer ;  that  I  may  even  then,  so  far  as 
Thou  shalt  enable  me,  behold  and  see 
that  for  my  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of 
sinful  man,  no  sorrow  was  ever  like  His 
sorrow. 

M  And  if  this  sickness  shall  be  unto 
death,  then  let  me  say,  if  not  with  the 
resignation  that  He  did,  yet  with  all  the 
resignation  that  I  can,  4  Not  my  will,  but 
Thine  be  done.' 

44  That  so,  receiving  the  just  punish- 
ment due  to  my  sins,  and  Thy  whole 
wrath  against  them  in  this  life,  the  im- 
mortal spirit  which  Thou  hast  given  me, 
and  which  by  the  adorable  methods  of 
Thy  Grace  and  Providence,  Thou  hast 
fitted  up  for  Thy  service,  and  made  so 
strong  for  Thy  own  self,  may  attain 
what  I  pant  and  long,  and  am  athirst 
for,  even  the  enjoyment  of  Thee  forever 
and  ever,  in  and  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord. 

44  And  as  I  pray  for  myself,  so  do 
Thou  open  and  enlarge  my  heart,  and 
continue  to  me  the  same  holy  desires 
for  all  mankind,  in  the  most  acceptable 
words  of  Thy  blessed  Son,'  4  Our  Fa- 
ther,' "  &c. 

She  endured  the  trial  with  unflinch- 
ing courage  and  patience,  becoming  her 


408       LADT  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

desire  to  be  likened  by  sufferings  to  her 
Lord,  and  on  the  following  night,  though 
unable  to  sleep,  she  rested  in  thankful- 
ness to  her  God  for  the  support  He  had 
afforded  her,  and  for  the  many  blessings 
she  enjoyed,  offering  up  her  heart  in 
love,  gratitude,  and  adoration. 

She  recovered  sooner  than  had  been 
expected,  so  far  as  to  be  able  to  resume 
her  former  mode  of  life,  though  with 
some  variety  of  employments,  in  all  of 
which  she  intended  the  glory  of  God  or 
the  good  of  mankind. 

She  saw  how  useful  a  handmaid 
learning  is  to  religion,  and  indeed  was 
far  from  being  herself  without  taste  and 
knowledge  forjudging  of  books  general- 
ly, whilst  in  practical  divinity  and  things 
pertaining  to  the  direction  of  conscience, 
she  seldom  formed  an  erroneous  judg- 
ment. She  considered  then,  how  she 
might  promote  the  advancement  of  learn- 
ing ;  and  as  she  knew  that  she  must  con- 
tinue in  a  weakly  state  of  health,  she 
became  anxious  to  secure  without  delay 
the  fulfilment  of  her  good  purposes  ;  to 
this  end  she  digested,  improved,  enlarg- 
ed and  altered  several  schemes  and  pro- 
visions, using  therein  her  own  industry 
and  wisdom. 

Indeed,  so  far  was  she  from  relaxing 
her  diligence  as  she  approached  the  end 
of  her  pilgrimage,  that  in  spite  of  her 
bodily  weakness  she  seemed  rather  to 
quicker,  her  pace,  increasing  in  the  fer- 
vour of  her  prayers,  and  abundance  of 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.      409 

her  alms,  as  earnestly  as  if  now  only- 
she  was  beginning  to  turn  to  God  and  to 
repent  as  death  drew  near,  for  her  hun- 
ger and  thirst  after  righteousness  still 
stimulated  her. 

The  care  and  labour  which  she  gave 
to  the  disposing  of  her  estate  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  too  much  for  her 
strength,  and  that  now  failed  her  rapid- 
ly. The  disease,  only  repressed  for  a 
time,  returned  with  fresh  malignity, 
and  induced  the  fear  that  she  might  be 
called  to  a  repetition  of  her  former  suf- 
fering, to  which  she  looked  forward 
with  the  same  patience  as  before,  and 
with  a  prospect  of  death  and  of  happi- 
ness growing  nearer  to  her.  For  several 
months  she  was  unable  to  turn  herself  in 
her  bed.  and  her  appetite  failed  her  ;  yet 
still  she  had  strength  for  prayer,  and  it 
appeared  that  not  one  hour  passed  with- 
out it. 

She  did  all  she  could  to  comfort  her 
household  by  her  cheerfulness,  and 
grateful  acceptance  of  their  attentions  to 
her,  passing  by  mistakes  or  neglects 
without  notice. 

She  wrote  letters,,  to  her  friends,  or 
dictated  them  when  she  became  unable 
to  write,  full  of  sweet  counsel,  whilst 
many  came  to  her  house  to  see  her  and 
hear  her  last  words  ;  for  she  engaged 
those  about  her  in  heavenly  conference, 
as  long  as  she  had  strength  to  speak,  and 
preserved  her  attention  to  the  speech  of 
others  when  her  strength  was  gone. 


410      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

She  delighted  in  the  society  of  holy 
persons,  and  the  mutual  warmth  and 
light  imparted  by  communion  with  them. 
The  more  need  she  had  herself  of  com- 
fort, and  even  in  the  necessary  increase 
of  her  expenses,  she  sought  the  more  to 
assist  those  in  need,  saying  often  to  such 
as  were  about  her,  "  Where  is  there  a 
poor  member  of  Christ  whom  I  can 
comfort  and  refresh  ?" 

About  this  time  she  sent  forty  guineas 
to  a  gentleman  imprisoned  for  debt,  at 
Roth  well,  whom  she  had  never  seen,  but 
had  only  heard  of  his  distress,  and  some 
words  in  his  favour. 

For  several  months  she  was  unable  to 
attend  public  worship,  from  which  she 
never  had  been  kept  by  any  trifling  hin- 
derance  ;  indeed,  even  after  her  illness 
she  continued  to  go,  when  wanting  sleep, 
and  apt  to  suffer  from  cold  ;  but  when  it 
became  impossible  for  her  to  reach  the 
church,  she  had  the  service  read  at  home 
daily,  and  the  holy  sacrament  adminis- 
tered to  her  every  Sunday,  thus  hanging 
to  the  last  upon  her  Holy  Mother  the 
Church,  from  whom  she  had  received 
such  healthful  nourishment  throughout 
her  life. 

She  now  suffered  less  pain,  and  indeed 
less  complaint,  than  could  have  been  ex- 
pected ;  and  by  careful  attendance  her 
sufferings  were  alleviated  as  far  as  pos- 
sible. Her  faith  in  her  Saviour  had  now 
been  growing  for  more  than  fifty  years, 
and  in  Him  was  her  trust  that  He  would 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.      411 

finish  the  work  He  had  begun  in  her, 
and  accept  her,  notwithstanding  all  her 
imperfections.  She  waited  His  time, 
and  wished  that  if  it  might  be  allowed 
her,  she  should  live  to  see  her  charities 
established  by  law.  Her  careful  medical 
friend,  Dr.  Johnson,  directed  all  his  skill 
to  effect  this;  and  it  so  happened,  that 
she  survived  the  legal  and  necessary 
time  by  seven  or  eight  days. 

About  six  hours  before  her  death,  she 
summoned,  for  the  sake  of  her  household, 
those  especially  who  had  seldom  seen  her 
in  the  time  of  her  long  illness,  to  strength- 
en and  enforce  every  thing  that  she  had 
done,  or  shown  them  before,  by  her  dy- 
ing counsels.  She  had  wished  in  like 
manner  to  take  leave  of  the  whole  vil- 
lage, but  was  restrained  by  her  physi- 
cian ;  and  being  anxious  to  have  the  last 
offices  of  the  Church  administered  to 
her  in  the  most  solemn  and  regular  man- 
ner, she  set  aside  the  services  of  two  or 
more  excellent  clergymen,  then  in  the 
house,  and  sent  for  the  vicar  of  the  par- 
ish, whom  she  had  held  in  honour  for 
twenty  years. 

When  this  last  service  was  performed, 
her  soul  seemed  to  receive  some  of  the 
happiness  of  heaven ;  her  eyes,  though 
languishing  under  years  and  sickness, 
shone  bright  as  diamonds,  (as  one  said, 
who  was  present,)  and  all  who  looked  on 
were  amazed  at  the  transport  now  grant- 
ed to  her  spirit.  She  broke  out  with  a 
T°i«ed  accent  into  words  such  as  these  % 


412   LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

44  Lord  !  what  is  it  that  I  see  ?  O,  the 
greatness  of  the  glory  that  is  revealed  in 
rne — that  is  before  me  !"  And  some 
time  after  she  had  so  said,  she  fell  asleep. 

The  directions  for  her  charities,  in 
which  she  had  laboured  so  much,  and 
which  she  had  lived  to  complete,  are 
very  full  and  minute.  She  gave  a  manor 
to  Queen's  College,  Oxford,  for  main- 
taining and  qualifying  five  poor  scholars, 
to  be  elected  by  lot  from  schools  in 
Yorkshire,  Westmoreland,  and  Cumber- 
land. Of  their  being  chosen  by  lot,  she 
says  in  the  codicil  containing  her  in- 
structions, "  Though  it  may  be  called 
by  some  superstition  or  enthusiasm,  yet 
as  the  advice  was  given  me  by  an  ortho- 
dox and  pious  prelate  of  the  Church  of 
England,  as  leaving  something  to  Prov- 
idence ;  and  as  it  will  be  a  means  to  save 
the  scholars  the  trouble  and  expense  of  a 
journey  to  Oxford  under  too  great  an 
uncertainty  of  being  elected,  I  will  this 
method  of  balloting  be  for  ever  ob- 
served." 

She  enters  into  particulars  respecting 
the  length  of  time  appointed  to  the  ex- 
hibitions, which  five  years  were  intended 
to  take  away  from  the  scholars  li  all 
necessity  of  entering  precipitately  into 
holy  orders,  and'to  give  them  an  oppor- 
tunity of  laying  in  some  sort  a  sound 
foundation  of  divine  as  well  as  human 
learning."  She  therefore  directs,  "that 
for  the  first  four  years  they  shall  apply 
themselves  to  the  study  of  arts  and  sci- 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.       413 

ences,  according  to  the  rules  of  their 
College,  and  employ  the  fifth  year  wholly 
in  Divinity,  Church  History,  and  the 
Apostolical  Fathers,  in  the  original 
tongues.  It  is  also  required,  that  from 
their  first  admission  to  the  College,  they 
should  spend  one  hour  every  morning  in 
the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  writ- 
ing their  own  explanations  of  such  pas- 
sages as  their  tutors  shall  direct ;  and 
that  before  the  end  of  their  fourth  year 
they  shall  translate  such  a  portion  of  St. 
Chrysostom's  book,  De  Sacerdotio,  as 
their  tutors  appoint,  or  make  an  abstract 
of  the  whole." 

There  are  further  instructions,  with  a 
view  to  secure  their  being  fully  prepared 
for  holy  orders,  as  well  as  for  examining 
them  as  boys,  before  they  leave  their 
schools ;  and  details  regarding  the  pay- 
ment from  her  estates. 

In  the  directions  for  her  Perpetual 
Charities,  she  enters  into  particulars  re- 
specting the  provisions  for  her  Charity 
Schools,  "wheels  for  spinning,  and  other 
implements  of  housewifery,  seeds  and 
plants  for  the  garden,  and  a  man  to  take 
care  of  it,"  &c.  In  these  schools  a  cer- 
tain number  of  girls  were  to  be  main- 
tained and  educated  ;  sums  of  money 
were  also  left  for  other  village  schools, 
amounting  in  all  to  a  great  number,  for 
repairing  and  beautifying  churches,  for 
building  parsonage  houses,  for  the  Prop- 
agation and  Christian  Knowledge  Socie- 
ties, for  the  infirmary  at  York,  for  aug- 


414      LADT  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

mentation  of  vicarages,  and  other  char- 
itable purposes,  all  being  left  in  the 
hands  of  trustees,  to  be  paid  out  of  cer- 
tain estates  specified.  She  was  a  great 
benefactress  to  the  church  of  Leeds,  and 
appointed  a  lecture  sermon  to  be  preach- 
ed there  "  upon  some  festival,  at  the 
latter  end  or  beginning  of  each  month, 
(so  that  it  be  before  the  first  Lord's  day,) 
that  it  may  serve  also  as  a  preparatory 
sermon  for  the  blessed  sacrament." 

She  was  buried  in  the  family  vault, 
near  her  grandfather,  Sir  John  Lewis, 
on  January  7th,  1739,  being,  when  she 
died,  in  her  fifty-eighth  year,  "  and  was 
attended  to  the  grave  by  the  charity 
children  and  old  people  of  her  alms- 
houses, above  a  hundred  tenants  on 
horseback,  and  ten  clergymen,"  besides 
her  four  half  sisters,  and  several  of  her 
friends  and  relations. 

The  following  character  of  Lady  Eli- 
zabeth Hastings,  taken  from  the  public 
prints,  is  given  in  Wilford's  Memorials. 

"  The  splendour  she  derived  from  her 
birth  and  extraction,  though  great,  strikes 
but  faintly  among  the  numerous  and 
shining  qualities  of  this  most  excellent 
lady.  Graceful  was  her  person,  genteel 
her  mien,  polite  her  manners,  agreeable 
her  conversation,  strong  and  piercing 
her  judgment  and  understanding,  sacred 
her  regard  to  friendship,  and  strict  to  the 
last  degree  her  sense  of  honour  ;  but 
could  all  these  be  painted  in  the  liveliest 


LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS.       415 

colours,  they  would  make  but  the  lowest 
part  of  her  character,  and  be  rather  a 
shade  and  abatement  than  add  any  lustre 
to  it.  For  what  is  infinitely  above  all, 
she  did  justice,  loved  mercy,  and  walked 
humbly  with  her  God.  The  whole 
Christian  religion  was  early  planted  in 
her  heart,  which  was  entirely  formed 
and  fashioned  by  it.  She  learned  it  from 
the  Sacred  Scriptures,  and  the  faithful 
depository  of  everlasting  truths,  the 
Church  of  England,  whose  genuine 
daughter  she  was,  and  bore  towards  our 
dearest  Mother  as  inviolable  devotions 
as  even  those  whose  names  shine  amongst 
the  martyrs. 

Her  life  had  chiefly  for  its  directions 
two  great  objects  :  how  she  might  exalt 
the  glory  of  God,  and  how  demonstrate 
her  own  goodwill  towards  men.  The 
first  she  sought  by  employing  all  her 
power  and  capacities  for  His  honour  and 
service,  and  whatever  related  to  it  was 
ever  in  motion  and  never  discontinued, 
but  so  far  as  the  weakness  of  human  na- 
ture made  it  necessary.  Her  supplica- 
tions and  prayers,  intercessions  and  giv- 
ing of  thanks,  as  they  were  directed  to- 
wards heaven,  so  being  discharged  of 
every  weight  and  encumbrance,  and 
cleansed  from  every  impurity  and  alloy, 
they  easily  ascended  thither,  and  the 
holy  flame  was  rarely  suffered  to  lan- 
guish, never  to  go  out.  Her  benevolence 
to  her  fellow  creatures  was  such,  as  the 
good  angels  are  blessed  with,  warm  and 


416      LADY  ELIZABETH  HASTINGS. 

cherishing,  wide  and  unbounded.  Thous- 
ands and  ten  thousands  has  she  comfort- 
ed and  relieved,  many  has  she  enriched 
and  advanced,  and  the  collective  mass  of 
mankind  daily  had  her  blessings  and  her 
prayers. 

Such  was  the  late  Lady  Elizabeth 
Hastings  :  not  after  the  gayety  of  youth 
was  over,  and  the  gratifications  of  it  be- 
came deadened  by  much  using,  but  in  its 
early  beginning  through  all  the  stages 
of  life,  down  to  its  most  glorious  conclu- 
sion. And  well  may  it  be  called  so  :  for 
make  what  demand  you  will  of  every 
virtue  in  its  full  height  and  stature  that 
can  be  thought  of  or  wished  for,  to  crown 
a  life  in  every  thing  excellent,  and  the 
same  might  have  been  seen  exemplified 
in  her  last  long  and  tedious  sickness. 
Her  patience  under  God's  visitation,  and 
her  absolute  resignation  to  His  will ;  the 
continual  labour  and  travail  of  her  soul 
for  the  enlargement  of  His  kingdom  and 
the  increase  of  His  glory  ;  her  heaviness 
and  mourning  for  the  sins  of  other  men  ; 
her  unwearied  study  and  endeavours  for 
their  recovery  and  eternal  welfare  ;  her 
generous  and  charitable  appointments ; 
her  tender  and  affectionate  expre..3ions 
to  her  relations,  her  friends,  and  servants, 
and  her  grateful  acknowledgments  to  her 
physicians,  and  to  those  who  more  im- 
mediately attended  upon  her,  would  re- 
quire pages  to  set  them  in  a  proper  light. 
In  short,  it  may  be  affirmed  without  ex- 
cess, that  scarce  any  age  or  country  of 


LADY    MAYNARD.  417 

later  times  has  presented  to  the  world  a 
person  that  was  a  greater  blessing  to 
many,  and  a  more  illustrious  pattern  to 
all." 


These  Notices  would  seem  to  conclude 
suitably  with  a  part  of  Bishop  Ken's 
Sermon  on  Lady  Maynard.  (See  page 
50.) 

11  All  this  while  I  have  not  done  jus- 
tice to  my  subject,  by  affirming  in  gen- 
eral, that  goodness  is  honourable :  I  must 
therefore  be  more  particular,  and  inquire 
why  Solomon  does  here  instance  in  the 
woman  rather  than  in  the  man,  '  A  gra- 
cious woman  retains  honour.' 

"  And  the  reason  seems  to  me  to  be 
either  this,  that  as  vice  is  more  odious 
and  more  detested,  so  on  the  other  hand, 
virtue  is  more  attractive,  and  looks  more 
lovely  in  women  than  it  usually  does  in 
men,  insomuch  that  the  '  gracious  wo- 
man' shall  be  sure  to  purchase,  and  to 
'  retain  honour.' 

"  Or  it  is,  because  men  have  more 
advantages  of  aspiring  to  '  honour'  in  all 
public  stations  of  the  Church,  the  court, 
the  camp,  the  bar,  and  the  city,  than 
women  have  ;  and  the  only  way  for  a 
woman  to  gain  honour,  is  an  exemplary 
holiness ;  this  makes  her  children  rise 


418  LADY    MATWARD. 

up  and  call  her  blessed,  her  husband  and 
her  own  works  to  praise  '  her  in  the 
gate ;'  the  sole  glory  then  of  that  sex  is 
to  be  good,  for  it  is  a  'gracious  woman* 
only  who  '  retains  honour.' 

"  Or  it  is,  because  women  are  made 
of  a  temper  more  soft  and  frail,  are  more 
endangered  by  snares  and  temptations, 
less  able  to  control  their  passions,  and 
more  inclinable  to  extremes  of  good  or 
bad  than  men,  and  generally  speaking, 
goodness  is  a  tenderer  thing,  more  haz- 
ardous and  brittle  in  the  former  than  in 
the  latter,  and  consequently  a  firm  and 
steady  virtue  is  more  to  be  valued  in  the 
weaker  sex  than  in  the  stronger ;  so  that 
a  *  gracious  woman '  is  most  worthy  to 
receive  and  to  '  retain  honour.' 

"  Or  it  is,  because  women  in  all  ages 
have  given  many  heroic  examples  of 
sanctity  ;  besides  those  recorded  in  the 
Old  Testament,  many  of  them  are  named 
with  great  honour  in  the  New,  for  their 
assiduity  and  zeal  in  following  our  Sa- 
viour, and  their  charity  in  ministering  to 
Him  of  their  substance  ;  they  accompa- 
nied Him  to  Mount  Calvary,  lamented 
His  sufferings,  waited  on  the  cross,  at- 
tended the  sepulchre,  prepared  spices 
and  ointments ;  and  regardless,  either  of 
the  insolence  of  the  rude  soldiers,  or  of 
the  malice  of  the  Jews,  with  a  love  that 
cast  out  all  fear,  they  came  on  the  first 
day  of  the  week,  before  the  morning 
light,  to  embalm  Him  ;  and  God  was 
pleased  to  honour  these  holy  women  ac- 


LADY    MATNARD.  419 

cordingly,  for  they  first  saw  the  angel, 
who  told  them  the  joyful  news  that  He 
was  risen ;  and  as  if  an  angel  had  not 
been  a  messenger  honourable  enough, 
Jesus  Himself  first  appeared  to  the 
women,  the  women  first  saw  and  adored 
Him ;  and  it  was  those  very  gracious 
women  whom  our  Lord  sent  to  His  dis- 
ciples, that  women  might  be  first  pub- 
lishers of  His  Resurrection,  as  angels 
had  been  of  His  Nativity.  Our  Saviour 
Himself  has  erected  an  everlasting  mon- 
ument in  the  Gospel,  for  the  penitent 
woman  that  anointed  Him  ;  and  God  In- 
carnate honoured  the  sex  to  the  highest 
degree  imaginable,  in  being  born  of  a 
woman,  in  becoming  the  Son  of  a  Vir- 
gin-mother, whom  all  generations  shall 
call  blessed  ;  and  I  know  not  how  to  call 
it,  but  there  is  a  meltingness  of  disposi- 
tion, and  affectionateness  of  devotion,  an 
easy  sensibility,  an  industrious  alacrity, 
a  languishing  ardour  in  piety,  peculiar 
to  the  sex,  which  naturally  renders  them 
subjects  more  pliable  to  the  Divine  Grace 
than  men  commonly  are  ;  so  that  Solo- 
mon had  reason  to  bestow  the  epithet 
gracious,  particularly  on  them,  and  to 
say,  that  a  'gracious  woman  retaineth 
honour.'  " 


THE   EN»c 


